#also I’ve been deaf since Friday

[bixbiboom]

@.critical_role: Get to know #CandelaObscura's fabulous Cordelia Glask (@.MissGinaDarling) with her Instagram story takeover starting TOMORROW!

Join her as she shares moments from throughout her day before the premiere of the Tide & Bone finale! 🌊 🦴

——

And here is the summation of Gina’s takeover stories! If you don’t like watching in Tumblr’s native player, find the video »HERE« on YouTube instead.

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 8

Synopsis: Truths are revealed, jeopardizing what lies between these two lovers. Why? And how?

A/n: Angst! Angst! And in this chapter, I personally will relinquish a grudge, Sophia I forgive you now, sorta. I swear things may improve! Also, Petronella is a girl's girl and alive. Fuck what the Canon says.

You never expected the tables to turn that quickly. You never wanted to have an affair. You just subconsciously wanted him. Maybe more than subconsciously.

How dumb.

You left his office and went off to your tutoring. Your chest still ringing from beating too hard. Your ears were tingling.

You figured one would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not notice your obvious puppy dog. (Or how did he put it just now? “A fawn separated from it’s mother too early”…?) Crush you were developing on him.

Was it desperation and he was merely scratching an itch? Something to warm his bones after a dry-spell since his wife died? If not, why not just go see an escort? (You shuddered at an accidental outing.)

You doubted it was a crush, like you held. Do men in their upper fifties (Your best guess at his age…) get crushes? You also doubted that.

And why did it seem like he had twice the amount of pulse in his body. If you didn’t know anatomy, you would swear he had two hearts in his chest.

You shook your head and left silly thoughts and trying to define this experience.

Whatever it was, it began to happen fast. You would meet up between classes in his office for a quick fuck. Or if he saw you on campus he’d guide you to somewhere secluded for a kiss on your cheek and a remark about your latest diatribe in class.

You still met up every Monday for some actual tutoring on his class.

Once he took you out to park at the edge of town for a little coffee date.

He respected your work schedule and always never asked questions.

You were dearly grateful.

The term was coming to an end, and you were in the library. It was late and you covered in highlighter ink and were approaching clinical insanity. You felt a now-familiar set of hands on your shoulders.

“Burning the candle at both ends? I see.”

“Hey.” You broke out of your reverie and statistics-essay informed stupor. It might have been a tad bit louder than you intended.

“Play hooky from work this weekend. I’ve got to go to London for my other job.” First time he ever mentioned a second job. Did the university really pay it’s professors that little? You heard a few, more junior ones kvetching once. But him? He was definitely tenured.

“Another job?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I made a bad choice in the 70’s. It’s followed me around since then. Do come. I’ll do us somewhere special.” So your calculations on his age were wrong. He was maybe just a tad bit older than upper fifties…

Probably lower sixties.

“Sounds fine by me. It’s been slowing up.” You remarked.

He leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Do ditch the energy drink. They’re ever so bad on human’s guts.”

A weird quirk. He’d always say humans or apes. As if he was above or different. Maybe it was the fact he was an old white guy.

Yeah, that was it. Old white guy brain rot.

“Meet me at that park… Friday, around three PM.” He instructed.

“Okay…”

“I’ll let you go back to your studies. I know how much you value them.” A final kiss and he faded out as quickly as he appeared.

You texted your manager and explained that you weren’t able to do the weekend shift, but definitely Thursday night. If you were to go to London, you’d proceed some mad money to spend on your own if his second job left you hostage for too long to your own devices.

And you canceled on a few regulars.

“Family issues.” Always a surefire way to get out of these things. Vague enough to not garner questions and would gain some sympathy. You hoped some other girl wouldn’t nab them, but you knew how people were. That one girl, Sophia, once stole your biggest tipper who saw you on both Friday nights and Sunday evenings because she’d do oral without a condom.

Damn that stomach flu you had that weekend.

You worked that night, slow but a big tip had materialized. Perfect.

By the time you had gotten home and napped for a few hours, you had a dilemma. Obviously you didn’t want your work knickers and robes mixing in with your real life clothes. Taint the divide you had.

You stared at your open suitcase. It was a little carry-on one. Yet the empty inside could swallow you whole. You threw in the most fancy of your basics in. It seemed the best idea. You pressed your hand to your mouth and let out a nervous scream.

Why was picking out what clothes you’d wear to probably just stay in a hotel all weekend stressful?

And were you entering kept whore territory?

Your situationship was dreadfully unlabeled.

You definitely knew he wasn’t your boyfriend. That word was horribly trite and evoked images of teens and young adults running about to dinner dates and cuddling each other on the bus. Or feeling each other up behind the seats in a cinema.

Not that you had particularly a detailed actual history with long-term or healthy relationships.

That’s life.

Did he even drive? How were you two getting to London? You just sat there on the bench after going to the park. It was nearly three.

You scratched at your eyelid, fighting the urge to tear off your lower lip with your fingernails.

Checking your phone, you didn’t see the big black Range Rover pulling up in front of you. The back passenger side door popped open, startling you a bit. “Hey you, get in. Apparently I’m very late.” You saw him in the back, a few soldiers in it with him. (They looked like soldiers. You decided they were.)

You grabbed your little carry-on suitcase and went in. An anxiety attack was bubbling up. What was his other job? You slid in and clenched your suitcase and purse between your legs.

You were going to London, so you chose a classy, sleek, small black number. You made the right choice. It was positively crowded in here.

There was a cute, disgruntled looking girl with an oversized knit scarf and some hipster glasses on in the front passenger seat.

“Hi! I’m Osgood!” She stretched back and offered you her hand. “You’re his...assistant?” She seemed confused by your general existence, but pleased you were another girl in this car of men. You couldn’t blame her! You took it and shook.

“She’s my companion.” The bastard finally labeled your situationship. Companion, very old timey. He let out of beaming smile, and continued on, “Petronella Osgood, (y/n's full name). (Y/n’s full name), Petronella Osgood. The new lead scientific advisor and assistant to the Head of UNIT!” His hand nearly swiped one of the soldier’s faces. “You’re both clever and don’t think like a normal human. You’ll be friends by Sunday night…”

If you could have balled yourself up and rolled away like a pill bug of you could.

“Do you like Costa? I’m trying to convince these people to stop by on our way home! Usually he just shows up, you know how he is with that TARDIS of his. But the Doctor said this would be best for him to do today…” She battered you with information and words.

You’d discuss this all with him further in private. Right now, you had to play a role.

“Yeah, I could go for…a Cortado.” You choked out. Coffee would help this all be absorbed a lot quicker.

She began fiddling with the vehicle’s GPS.

They all began talking about whatever techno-babble and such. It was over your head. You felt yourself getting heart burn and a migraine.

Petronella asked you something. And like a baby with dribble on it’s shirt, you said sluggishly: “What?”

“Do you think that we should do a frontal advance?”

“Maybe not?” You just started making things up on the fly. Filling it in ad-lib style!

You wanted to kill yourself.

“I mean, if… you go… from the front…all in. They’ll be…able to see you?” You heaved. “If you go from the…sides…and like, guerilla style…whatever is happening will…be a surprise …you remember like, the Germans against Rome or Boudicca, also against Rome…yeah.” You ended. You deserved a little chewing on the inside of your cheek, as a treat.

Soon enough, you pulled up to a Costa, Petronella seemed very eager to order in-shop. And to drag you in.

You collected the soldier’s and Professor Smith (Oh! Yeah, they called him Doctor…you’d demand the truth later.) Orders.

You were so eager to leave the car for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey, mind if I smoke real quick?” You had quit, but there was a lose one in the purses pocket, and the situation called for one. If ever there was a time to start smoking, it’d be now.

“I have asthma! But sure! I can wait.” She went into the weird little room that’s neither inside nor outside that commercial spaces tend to have. She got a phone call.

You could use this as an opportunity to get information about the man who you had been fucking. She’d be more helpful here. She clearly knew him better. Sure you had seen him naked. But she knew him on a more intimate level it seemed.

You finished up your cigarette and crushed it under the heel of your shoe. You got a bottle of perfume out and began dusting it on a heavy layer. You took one big inhale and rolled your neck around. It cracked and you relaxed a bit.

Entering the Costa, she hung up her phone and smiled.

You both ordered. You got yourself one of their fruit biscuits and went to get out your cash.

“Oh no! I got it! All of it.” She whipped out a black card and tapped it to the reader. “Perks of the job.”

You nodded your head. You had heard of UNIT, but couldn’t be arsed to care.

“So, the Doctor.” The name sounded foreign coming out of your mouth. “How long have you worked with him?”

“Oh! Five years now!”

You placed a hand on your throat and rested your jaw on it.

“What’s his deal?”

“Wish I knew, but we should all be glad he exists, he’s the best we got.”

Oh!

You let out a little “mmhmm.”

Before you could get your next question, the drinks and your snack came.

She grabbed her milk babyccino and handed you your Cortado as you left the Costa. You didn’t want to get back in the Range Rover. This all seemed like a very bad idea. You should have never agreed to this.

But here you were, so you had to deal with it.

You got back in the back, the solider driving said they’d have to speed along, no stops.

You shrunk in the seat. You felt his one hand stroke your upper arm. He was trying to comfort you. You wish you could recoil, but you had grown too addicted to his touch. Against all instinct, you leaned into him and sipped your coffee. Just sat an observed, chiming in when people would outright ask you for your input. More sipping your coffee and staring glumly out the front windshield. You felt like a caged beast.

Soon enough you were in London and you could get out of the car. Sadly, it pulled into an underground military-style bunker.

You were very proud of yourself for keeping your cool and now having a major breakdown in there.

You entered a lift, still carrying your suitcase.

It went all the way to the top.

Some woman in a very impressive suit and a silk scarf met you all there.

More introductions.

The Doctor – Professor Smith- whatever his real title or honorific was, took your suitcase and told someone to take it to a place. You didn’t retain or hear. You were positively swimming. You hated how good this artificial, florescent lighting made the hollows of his face looked. He was a bit more formal in his dress than he ever was at the university. In this moment you hated how you were reacting to him. Obviously he had to confess things to you.

Obviously, there was a bit of a double standard, but this outweighed your little evasions and white lies.

There was a meeting and grand plans were drawn. Choices were made.

And you had to make choices for yourself.

It was close to midnight when you finally got out of the meeting. Tomorrow apparently they’d denote a device, after it was programmed and set up during the night. Apparently that’d save the Earth.

He was swanning along like he owned the place. Everyone was reverent. His word was law and his advice was the loudest.

Maybe you shouldn’t have smoked that cigarette beforehand. Maybe you needed several shots of vodka. Maybe you just were way out of your depth.

Soon enough you had an escort of two soldiers for him and you to a suite with the bare essentials of comfort. Your stupid suitcase was there. Like a fancy barracks.

The door locked and you were alone with him.

“It’s time I tell you some truths.” He said, sitting in a chair at the desk.

You threw your hands up, “You fucking think so?” It came out as a screech. You clapped your hand to your mouth.

“What the fuck?” You clapped your hands together as you leaned over and down to face him. “What the fuck was all that?” You crouched into a squat.

“Let me tell you.” His tone was silencing. Like you were in the wrong for this reaction.

“Fine!”

“Firstly, this changes nothing about the past months. But I am an alien from a planet far away and long since gone. I am over two-thousand years old. My name, my title, is the Doctor. Well the closest translation to any Earthling's language.”

You leaned back, gesturing with your hands in the “okay” position.

“I may be a little fucking slow, I may have a few learning disabilities, but I’m not fucking stupid. Are you…aware…of how incredibly far-fetched that sounds?” Your body swaying with the position of your hands. The hands quickly moved to press into the center of your forehead.

He undid a few buttons on his shirt.

You groaned.

He grabbed at your hands and you tried to escape. He flattened the palm of one and pressed it against his chest. You felt two hearts pumping. Your little observation after the first time you hooked up on how it seemed like he had two pulses wasn’t so stupid suddenly...

“Two hearts, fawn.” He said, using his pet name for you. “I’m alien.”

Your lower lip quivered.

No wonder he felt different than any other man you’d fucked previously. His body was different. He was.

Hot tears burned at the corners of your eyes, starting to splash out. You pulled yourself free and slunk onto the closest wall.

Figures that your first big infatuation that actually seemed to value your life was a fucking ancient alien. You felt like a total freak, were you really that screwed up that the only way you’d get anything resembling a healthy relationship was with an alien!

Your head found its way between your thighs.

“Nothing changes.” He repeated.

“How many others have you done this to?” You spat out. Pure venom.

“Rarely like you.”

“Oh, so I’m just the latest and greatest girl you’ve lured into submission! How kind! I was chosen! I feel special!” You raged out. Giving a little sarcastic bow from your sat position.

He joined you against the wall. You skittered yourself away from him.

“You’re special. Trust me. I had stopped. You met me in a different way. No danger, no trauma-bonding. No Nothing. If not for duties I neglected here for too long, I would have keep you safe. Continued to be your Professor John Smith. Existed…but I couldn’t bear not seeing you for as long as this will take here. Separate. Not my traveling assistant, not anything. Just my little fawn and our perfect microcosm of the universe.” He slid forward and looked you dead in the eye.

He cocked his head, “Remember when I was talking about what the universe owed us? I figured this was my long-awaited, pleaded for reward. To have you, for as long as this little life of yours could allow this fling to last.”

He was very good with words and you could feel them echoing pure and true in your head. Something made you relax and let your guard down.

You hoped it wasn’t some alien superpower he had.

You began openly weeping. Loud, a total cacophony. You started choking on your tears and having a hard time breathing.

He wiped the tears.

You let our a hiccup. He started rubbing small circles on the middle of your back.

“I planned on seeing a West End play with you, a proper date, like a human man would take a human woman to. If you don’t want to, I can order a car and you can go back to Bristol.” He offered.

You started crying even harder.

“Can I shower first? Before I can make a choice. On anything. Even you...” You admitted, needing to revise on your end if you even wanted to be with him in any capacity anymore.

“Understandable, (y/n).” The Doctor helped you up, and gave you your suitcase. You found your toiletries bag and shuffled in. You swore you heard him mutter, “Well, don’t overthink.” But you left that be. You had enough to think about, just add that to the list.

After getting undressed, you turned the water on the hottest it could go.

You began to wash away the day…

So much to think about…so little time to do so.

[garnetblackwater]

The Rustle of Leaves

Human female x forest guardian

Chapter 5-A Wandering Mind

The week following was a blur for Vanessa. Most weeks were fairly monotonous, going to lectures either as a student or teaching assistant, grading papers, just general college things, but this week was different. Monday was full of excitement, of course everyone was losing their minds over the blatant head wound covered in a bandage, shoulder bandaged, and band aids covering her legs. Her friends were constantly asking if she needed anything, especially one Carter Rosmund aka Cyclops, much to his chagrin. He had made many arguments for other x-men, mostly wolverine, but they always fell on deaf ears. Carter stood at 6 foot 3 and genetics had been kind to him. Sun kissed skin, short brown hair, broad shoulders, and blue eyes. He wasn’t extremely buff but he obviously took care of his body, and others noticed. But he only had eyes for one person.

“Vanessa what happened? You sent that picture then radio silence. Are you alright?” He reached for her face to give it a once over.

Vanessa pulled his hands away, “It looks worse than it actually is. I just fell a bit.” 

“Just? And how does one fall a bit?” Carter asked skeptically.

“Well. You know. You slip on an outcropping, tumble a bit, and then pass out for an hour or two,” the last few words lost in a mumble.

“Ness!” Vanessa cringed at the nickname, “Did you go to a hospital? Do you still need to?” Carter was uneasy, “I’m sure Professor X will be fine with us missing class considering the way you look.”

“You worry too much. I was checked over and I’m fine. Now let's go before we are late. I have a reputation to uphold.” And Vanessa marched on ahead of him. 

She really was fine, all thanks to Ten. Whatever he had done really did take the pain away. The wounds were still healing but they didn’t slow her down. 

She was lost to her thoughts again. The memory of Ten. The gentleness of his touch. The surprising warmth of him. She could feel that same warmth swim over her and settle in her chest. She could feel his lips ghost over her knuckles again. It all swam through her head, along with the worry. Worry of what was to come, and what she was to give in return.

“Ness you sure you don’t need me to get anything for you? You haven't been able to focus all day, let alone hear anything I’ve said.” Carter had been hovering around any free moment he had since the morning. He offered his arm for her to lean on.

“My legs work just fine. I can get around no problem. I just have a lot on my mind.” Vanessa kept walking towards the library. 

“You’re not feeling light headed? Need to lie down or anything?” Carter stopped in front of her looking into her eyes. He started to reach for her face.

“Calm down jeeze. You’re like a helicopter mom. I’m fine, I swear. Don’t you have class?” She swatted his hand away, and kept walking.

Carter checked his watch, she was right, but he didn’t want to go. “If you need anything just ask, got it? Even if it's just to talk.” His tone was serious. Vanessa knew that wasn’t an option. She knew Carter’s intentions were good and that his heart was in the right place but..

How long before an inch becomes a mile? Best to keep distance.

“Okay Dad whatever you say. I’m fine, just go.” Vanessa missed the way he hesitated at her words. Didn’t see the need in his eyes, but the focus of her mind was elsewhere. No matter what she did her mind trailed back to the forest. Everything happened so fast and it was so unclear. The uncertainty made her anxious. Her sleeping was sporadic and her focus nonexistent. Any free time she had was spent pouring through books and various websites looking for any answer to put her at ease. Before she knew it, it was Friday night. She was in her kitchen with Sandy baking. Sandy had decided on berry muffins, mostly because she had a craving for some, but they were also very portable. “I mean who doesn't like muffins? Especially blueberry muffins, ya know? Classic. Delicious. Van, are you even listening?”

Vanessa was pulled from her thoughts as she was taking the last batch out of the oven.”Listening to what? You stuff your face while I do all the work?” Sandy gave an over the top gasp. “I’m sorry Cheeks, I’m just nervous for tomorrow.” 

“Nervous for what? Wait. Hold up. Was he hot? The guy that saved you. Need a wingman?” Sandy joked but Vanessa’s stomach turned at her words. She had no idea what would happen once she went back. Her mind had jumped through many hoops during the week, some not so savory. 

Vanessa took a deep breath, hoping to stop the incessant spiral of her thoughts, “I promise I don’t need a wing man. Though he was definitely good looking.” Vanessa could not deny that she held a level of attraction for Ten. Even when her thoughts went to unsavory places, she did not always mind. There was also a level of comfort she felt when he held her. She remembered his gentle touch, but also the way he held her. Secure and safe? It only made her nerves spur on. 

Sandy’s eyes sparkled with glee, “Oh shit! Okay Van Van, let's get your man then!” The rest of the night was fueled by Sandy’s determination. Outfit planning, plans to get them alone, any scheme to get him to notice. 

The drive the next morning was anything but quiet. While Vanessa could feel the pit of despair in her stomach, Sandy was absolutely jamming!

“Van Van you have to get in the mood! Pump yourself up!” Sandy bobbed her head and shimmied her shoulders. “Come on Van!” Vanessa gave in and danced along with her. Maybe Sandy was right, just have to get in the right mood.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 1

welcome the the first fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Blast Zone by @mareepicurean

In the middle of a mission, a bomb going off leaves Lance unable to hear. Still, while he's deaf, the rest of his team are the ones that won't listen.

This is one of my voltron fics ever. I’ve read it regularly since it came out in 2017, and it was one of the big inspirations of my deaf lance fic. The fic does a really good job of team hurt/comfort and Lance’s insecurities without making the team weirdly evil. An awesome fic that I highly recommend. (Also, there’s some excellent Shiro & Lance!)

2. Perishing Pearls by @ohcontrary

A training session with the team goes awry when Lance has to spar against Allura, who's wielding her new whip. The mere sight of it raises ghosts he'd much rather forget.

This one is also heavy on the angst, although fair warning: it mentions past child abuse, so tread carefully. The fic is handles complicated family dynamics and grief really well. It is a great established klance hurt/comfort fic. 

3. How To Train Your Galra by magisterpavus [EXPLICIT]

“Shiro, I fucked up,” Keith blurted, wringing his hands.

Shiro paused mid-punch, shooting him a quizzical look. “What? What happened?”

“I think,” Keith whispered, “I think I accidentally roofied Lance. With my dick.”

This series is the walking proof that 2016 fics hit different. Should 14 year old me have been reading it? Probably not. It’s hugely NSFW, so definitely proceed with caution, but it’s a banger and has a lot of good banter, team as family, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, and more. Honestly a lot of fun and a lot of face-palming, just remember to heed the tags.

4. If It Ain’t Broke by @overlymetaromantic

A 5 plus 1: Five times Lance takes a hit for the team, and one time the team takes a hit back.

There’s this specific scene in this fic (it’s a bit of a spoiler) where Lance is getting shit from a worried team, who’s upset about him continually putting himself at risk, someone asks “Even if it means putting yourself at risk?” and Lance doesn’t even hesitate before saying “Yes!” It’s such an easy description of Lance’s character that it makes me emotional every time. 

5. Medic Lance by Fullmetal_Bitch

Multi-chap ft. my headcannon that Lance is the team's unofficial medic. Basically, it's a 5 + 1 of Lance helping the others when they're hurt and them helping him, just with a couple extra chapters. Story is so much better than this summary, I swear.Story is complete but the chapters did get revised so let me know whether you reckon it reads smoother now!

Medic Lance my beloved, truly. I feel like it fits him so well, especially as the Blue Paladin. This also has really good BAMF Lance, and Lance interacting with all the lions! Amazing, longer story. 

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[ashjade19]

Beach Babes

Ace x (female) reader

“Is the skirt too much? It probably is, oh god maybe my whole outfit is bad!”

“Hina, seriously you look great! I’m sure Ace will think so too.” I tell her, as she slightly blushes at the thought of her date.

“Are you absolutely sure about this? I know you said you don’t see him that way…… but I don’t want to hurt your friendship with your best friend.” Her dark blue eyes looks at me with concern.

“Ace and I have been best friends since we were three! I’m sure we’ll be fine, so don’t feel bad for going on a date with him.” Although I’m smiling and truly mean the words coming out of my mouth, I can’t help but feel terrible. It’s one of those feelings like a gut feeling before something bad happens or anxiety.

“If you say so (y/n).” She twirls while looking at herself in the mirror, her light blue skirt billowing out around her. We both giggle at her childish yet adorable action.

Since Hina and Ace’s date was at the beach, she had a swimsuit underneath her blue skirt and white tank top.

“Maybe I should do braids?”

“Hina! Not again!”

“They should have met up by now.”

The bad feeling was back yet again. I know that spying on your friend and best friend’s date probably wasn’t the best thing, but I don’t know what else to do! This feeling is so terrible and I don’t want anything to happen to them! The last time I had a feeling this bad it was when Luffy landed in the hospital.

“Fine, guess I’ll change into a swimsuit so I can still get into the water after they leave.” And with that I am out the door, walking towards the beach that is close enough to my apartment that I can walk.

The whole walk all I can think about is this bad feeling. This feeling can’t be jealousy, right? I don’t know anymore.

So here I am, sitting on my towel, sunglasses on to hide my identity and book in hand. Every few seconds I look over at my best friend and my friend next to him. They are just standing in the water, talking and laughing occasionally.

The bad feeling is back and at this point I’m pretty sure it is jealousy I’ve been feeling. But why? Ace and I have been best friends for so long, there’s no way I love him, right?

I go back to my book, reading but mostly thinking about my feelings.

Every time we are together I am so happy. When we touch (hugs and such) I am even happier. I smile at the thought of hugging Ace before shaking my head to clear it. I can’t get off topic here! I run one hand through my hair, contemplating my feelings.

It’s about half an hour later when they hug goodbye. I watch as they hug, the burning feeling inside me becoming too much to bear. It wasn’t until I looked back at the page of the book I’m reading for me to realize that I’m crying.

And I watch as Ace waves bye to Hina, and realize that I truly do love my best friend. My best friend that has always there for me when I’ve needed him the most. The best friend that I call strawberry from time to time because of his beautiful freckles. The best friend that I watch movies with him and his two brothers every Friday night. The best friend that I have slowly fallen in love with and didn’t even realize it until now.

How stupid can I be?

Apparently I’m also deaf, because next thing I know is that Ace is in front of me, asking if I’m okay.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Did someone do this?” The concern on his face hit me even harder and I just started crying more. He started freaking out and it ended with him hugging me. So I do what any crying-about-love-girl would do.

I hug him harder and cry into him, soaking up a spot on his red unbuttoned shirt.

“It’s okay firecracker. Everything is gonna be okay.” He rubs my back in soothing circles.

I sniffle when my cry fest is over.

“So how was the date with Hina?”

“It was fine but,” he gives me a grin, “I had to turn her down in the end.”

“Why? Are you into someone else or something?”

“I am.” He lets out a loud laugh.

“She doesn’t even know how much I love her! She’s the most beautiful, wonderful, kind and caring person I’ve ever met. I think I was around eight when I knew that she was the only one for me!”

The look he’s giving me is full of love. God, why can’t that be me that he is talking about!

“Even now I don’t think she realizes I’m talking about her.”

At that I am confused. Could he be talking about me? No, there’s no way! Ace loves me?! No, he has to be talking about some other lucky girl.

“(Y/n)~”

At the sound of my name I refocus on the man I love.

“Firecracker, that’s you. I love you, I’ve loved you for so long.”

…

…

It takes a long moment of silence for me to realize that I probably have to say something to that.

“Wait, are you serious?!” Ah yes, perfect (y/n)! Since I can’t figure out what to say and so I decide to say that! Perfect! Just perfect (*cue more crying*).

Ace, being the wonderful person he is, just looks at me with love in his eyes.

“Yeah! I love you. And I completely understand if you don’t feel the same way.” He says the last sentence in one of the saddest voices I’ve ever heard him use.

So I do the only thing I can think of in the moment.

I kiss him.

At this point, I feel tears streaming down my face. Tears of (past) sadness and joy. As we kiss, I feel a tear run down his cheek. I break the kiss, forehead resting on his before wiping the tear away with my thumb. We look into each other’s eyes, emotions flashing through them.

“I love you too Ace. I don’t think I realized it until today, but I’ve loved you for so long.”

He gives me the happiest expression I’ve ever seen on him before tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling me into another kiss.

It was breathtaking.

Even more so when I pull him down by his neck while his other hand snakes around my waist.

As we part from the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life, he lightly slaps my butt.

We laugh before going back to kissing.

[the-lincyclopedia]

Fic Rec Friday (on Saturday)

This week's theme: Rec a fic that starts with the same letter as your username (or, if you like, a part of your username)

The rules: Tag a fic that starts with the same letter as your username and describe why it's so good / how it has a hold on you. Then tag some people to see what everyone else is reading. Spread the love! Also, she'll do the round up on Sunday, so if you're still recc-ing on Saturday, no pressure! Please tag @welcometololaland or tag #fic rec friday so she can compile the masterlist.

Thanks to @cricketnationrise for the tag!

I went through my bookmarks and picked a LOT of fics whose titles start with T or L, so I’m inserting a cut so you don’t have to scroll past the whole thing. Also, I’m not tagging anyone to participate because Saturday is almost over.

tell me what it’s like (to be loved by you) - Check Please - by @likeshipsonthesea

Look, this fic has it all. Mutual pining? Comfortable friendship that neither of them wants to wreck? Co-parenting in the aforementioned dynamic? Check, check, check (please). The writing is gorgeous, also.

Life of the Party - Check Please - by penguinsledding

Another kid fic, this time featuring Jack and Lardo co-parenting a kid who resulted from a one-night stand they had right before Jack was supposed to be drafted. Bitty is the kid’s favorite YouTuber. This fic gives me so many feels.

the girl who lived (again) - Harry Potter - by @ink-splotch

I struggled with whether to include a Harry Potter fic in this list given . . . you know . . . but this is a beautiful interpretation of trans!Harry and makes the best case I’ve ever seen for why queer and trans young people need queer and trans role models, so I’m keeping it on the list.

Learned Our Lessons Well - Check Please - by @mcbangle

Shitty and Jack friendship so well-written that I wrote in my comment on it that I was happy-squealing. A great take on the ultimate brotp.

Land of Wishing Wells - Check Please - by @alexeiiimashkov

Patater fake dating at the Zimbits wedding. I have reread this fic SO many times. I’m a sucker for fanon Kent Parson, particularly when the writer gives him this much of an inferiority complex.

Love at the Juice Bar - Check Please - by orphan_account

The disability rep here makes me so happy! This fic features deaf!Jack and CODA!Bitty. It’s also just so cute, in general.

Three Points Where Two Lines Meet - Check Please - by @luckiedee

This fic has a two-person love triangle featuring Jack and Bitty falling for each other both at the grocery store and via email as Jack reads Bitty’s blog, without realizing that they’re the same people in both venues. And THEN Shitty and Lardo try to set them up. The TROPES. I love this one a lot.

The Kit-den Catfe - Check Please - by @justwritins

This writer is AMAZING at writing a Kent Parson who has been abused and is trying so hard to heal and figure things out. In this fic, Kent owns a cat cafe and Tater falls hard for him. Gosh, I want to reread this immediately.

The Placebo Effect - Check Please - by @doggernaut

Trope subversion alert! In this fic, Bitty and Jack fake being soulmates only to realize that they’re just as in love as they would be if it were predestined. I love when writers mess with the soulmate trope, and doggernaut is just so good.

That’s How the Light Gets In - Sherlock - by sylviarachel

This has been one of my all-time favorite fics for very nearly a decade now, which is utterly wild to realize, but it’s so deserved. This is an ace!Sherlock fic that helped me come to terms with my own asexuality, and my partner and I have been quoting it to each other since I read it to him a few weeks into our relationship. I don’t have words for how much this fic means to me.

[harcove]

you uh. wouldn't mind an angst request would you haha because I have had this one scenario stuck in my head where leon (probably resi 6 leon) has been drinking a lot more and has been neglecting his s/o and they finally call him out on his shit

anyway ooga booga they fight and decide it's best they give leon his space and take a break and maybe he finds them at a bar he goes to to get wasted to already find them drunk off their ass

Angst is absolutely one of my most favourite things to write and to read like damn I do be out here making myself CRY. So I definitely don't mind angst like hell yeah!

I was gonna end this was a happier note- but uh, I really love angst so I left it semi-open ended but also pretty sad I think. Also not really dialogue-heavy, more like... I write too much detail-heavy :,) Also this isn't edited, I spent days on this cause I was overthinking it and felt it was just not good so oof I'm sorry!

Length: 2k

Request: in the ask

Warnings: angst, drinking, lowkey it's alcoholism on Leon's part, being drunk

Leon x Reader - "I know."

How long had it been since you had held your boyfriend's hand? Since the two of you had really sat together and done something together, fully, completely, involved, and focused on one another. You didn't even remember, which was agonizing to think about.

You had been through so much with Leon. And you knew where his deepest thought lay, but you could never truly know. And it didn't help that over the years the two of you had together, he had started to become more distant. And instead of finding his comfort in your arms, he found it in some glass bottle.

At first, you didn't really protest much, you didn't say much about it. A drink every once in a while couldn't hurt. Yet, it wasn't every once in a while. It was more often than you'd have liked. And he was using it to forget. To focus on anything else but his life and his memories. Your soft words trying to talk to him didn't do much to stop him or dissuade him. He brushed you off more often than not. It tore you up from the inside out that you couldn't help him, that at some point a bottle was his chosen form of comfort over you.

The guilt mixed with sadness, and then with anger. And in the end, those feelings came together and created an explosion between the two of you one night.

Your throat was hoarse as you swallowed as much air as you could. You couldn't exactly remember what the argument stemmed from but you knew it had to be related to him drinking.

"Will you just listen to me?!" You shouted, the words coming out uneven as your throat begged you to stop, "put that shit down Leon, and look at me!"

The man sitting at the aisle in your kitchen put the flask he had down in front of him, but still had his hands on it. He turned his head to look at you, barely even moving at all, and his eyes were looking at you like he was unimpressed or annoyed.

"I'm listening."

You wanted to pull on your hair and scream because he wasn't. He wasn't listening, and he hadn't been, at least not for a while.

"No you aren't, you are not listening to a word I say, you never do!"

He scoffed, turning back to his drink and taking another sip.

"Where am I going on Friday?"

"What?" He looked at you incredulously, completely lost as your voice went from yelling at him to speaking relatively peacefully, but there was no peace in your voice.

"I said, where am I going on Friday, Leon," you repeated with clenched fists, "if you listen to me if you even bother to pay attention to me, you would know the answer. So where am I going on Friday?"

The silence was your answer, as you expected it to be, you just hadn't expected it to be so painful.

"I'm going to visit my family in the town over," your voice was low and tired, and you wanted to cry but you couldn't even find it in you to do that, "I told you that a thousand times Leon I..."

Biting your lip hard, you felt yourself break skin, and the metallic taste of blood invaded your taste buds. You were so angry at him moments before, angry enough you had been yelling. But suddenly you weren't angry anymore. You were just so sad; sad for yourself and sad for him. He wasn't going to listen to you, not right now, that much was clear.

"I've been busy Y/N-" whatever he said was wasted on deaf ears as you drowned them out unintentionally, your eyes trained on the flask he nursed.

For once, you knew you had to let it be. You had to give him space, and give yourself space.

"I'm sleeping in the guest room," you offered lamely after the long silence between the two of you after he had finished whatever he had said. Leon looked up at you, with a look of surprise, and confusion, "we both need space. From each other. I just... Don't stay up drinking all night."

"Y/N-" his words once again fell upon deaf ears, and his fingers just missed your arm as you turned and went upstairs to the room usually used by people like Claire, or Chris, sometimes Sherry.

When morning came, you had gotten up later than usual, Leon was already gone as he usually was early in the morning with his job and everything. Your heart felt heavier as you walked into the empty kitchen and noted the vodka bottle you two had been given as a gift was half empty. Something in you asked if it was all worth it; did it really do so much that he drank more than he should've? Did it take away the feelings of hopelessness, like the one you were currently stuck in?

Those were the thoughts that followed you the entire day as you went about your routine. They followed you all the way to the spare bedroom of one of your old friend's homes as you decided you and Leon needed to take a break. If you didn't do that, you feared you would only lose him completely. Or lose yourself. It was exhausting.

But what was even more exhausting was not seeing him. You worried for him, and even if you sometimes felt like he didn't, he worried for you.

It would take about a week before something would crack, before the storm that had been brewing between you two, the one that laid dormant after you walked out to take from your relationship, would begin to thunder again, but in a much different way.

"We're here to have fun," your friend who had been letting you stay over said as she pushed a shot of... something into your hands, leaning against the bar from your side while you said on one of the barstools, "and loosen up. You specifically."

You rolled your eyes; this wasn't in your plan for the day, going to a bar. But it was more than you had done in the past week now. Your routine consisted of going to work and heading back to your friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

You wanted Leon. But you couldn't have him right now. You were still upset, and you didn't even know if he wanted you right now. Everything was a mess.

Things seemed to blur together over the course of the night in the bar, your friend insisting on you trying each new drink she got, some not new too. You had had one drink that you ordered of your own volition, and it had been a regular bottle of beer. But the shots your friend got for you two, and the sips of the drinks your friend ordered, culminated into more than you realized and you could say you were a bit more than just tipsy.

For some reason though, your friend seemed to be chugging along much better than you, you must've been a lightweight.

You hadn't even seen your friend in a while, but you also were so out of it that you couldn't exactly comprehend time properly at that current moment in time.

A hand on your arm and a familiar voice seemed to sober you a bit as your eyes met familiar blue, but they were clouded over with pain, with worry. Confusion too, and a bit of shock. Your fingers twitched, aching to touch his arm. His face. To smooth the furrow that seemed to be etching itself into his brow, threatening to become a new and permanent feature.

But the sober feeling you experienced also stopped you from doing any of the above. Rather, your body stiffened a bit and you pulled away from his touch, only barely missing the look of hurt that glided over his features as you did so.

"L-Leon?" the alcohol in your system made it sound more like you were questioning if he was real rather than saying his name, "What are you-"

The question you were going to ask didn't even need to be finished. It didn't even need an answer from him, because even if you were drunk, you knew Leon. And you knew why he was there.

"Oh," you couldn't help but scoff, "you want my drink? It'll start you off-"

Leon wasn't going to pretend that he hadn't come to the bar to drink away his sorrows; to forget all the pain he held onto and the nightmares he couldn't escape, and now the pain of not having you around. But when he walked in and saw you? Something in him stopped. Something in him twisted and he felt nauseous and for once it wasn't because of a hangover, but it was because of you.

You looked so miserable. Not that you realized you were wearing your heart on your sleeve at the bar, with the dejected look on your face and the limp hand holding onto a beverage you clearly didn't enjoy. Whilst at the same time, you looked empty.

Is that what you saw? Is that what he looked like to you when he was drinking? When he was at home or at a bar, focusing on anything but reality?

Leon didn't want a drink anymore, he wanted to get you out of a place that didn't suit you whatsoever. He wanted to take you home, he didn't want you to be him.

"You didn't come here alone, did you?" He cut off whatever you were trying to say as he looked into your eyes sternly.

"What? N-no I'm not stupid... I came here with a friend."

It didn't take long for Leon to figure out the friend because he spotted her coming near the bar, and recognized her.

"Hey, I'm taking Y/N home," Leon tried to not sound aggressive when he spoke, but it may have only made him sound more upset.

"Leon? Oh, ya, of course. Are you two...?"

"We'll be fine," Leon replied as he helped you stand up, "thanks for being with them."

He hadn't just meant in the bar but in the past week. It was left unsaid, but it was laid bare.

As much as you wanted to pull away from the man who gently wrapped one of his strong arms around your waist, and used the other to hold your arm behind his neck, you couldn't. You didn't have the strength to, and you missed him.

Leon was glad he had taken the car and not his motorcycle. There was no way in hell he would've been able to keep you on a motorcycle all the way back to your home that you shared, or well, you hadn't for the past week. But that wasn't the point.

"You're so mean Leon..." you mumbled as he helped you get into the passenger seat of the car. He all but carried you into it like a child and leaned across you to put your seat belt on. You leaned your face into his neck as he did so, breathing deeply.

"I just... Want you to be happy," you continued sloppily, "but you won't... Let me in..."

Leon's breathing stopped for a moment as he stilled, his hand still on the seatbelt he had just finished putting you in. He quickly pulled himself together and pulled back, adjusting the belt on your body so it wasn't digging into your lazy form, but it was still doing its job.

"I know."

There was so much more he could say, but he couldn't.  He wasn't sure if he ever could.

He settled himself into the driver's seat and got ready to start the car up.

"I still love you though..." your words were slurred as you rested your head on the car window, feeling your eyes grow heavier.

"I..." Leon's hand was turning white at the knuckles from how hard he was holding the steering wheel. He didn't deserve you. And you didn't deserve this.

"I know..."

[uhhhitsgray]

Desire Chapter Ⅰ

Hellooo! Just stopping by to make a quick note about the story before the first chapter. Internal dialog with readers self will always be in italics to make it more clear, I talk to myself a lot in real life so the reader will do the same, lol. I have it stuck in my head that AU Eren would have tattoos and may or may not paint his nails, so there will probably be mention to that. There will also be self harm and abuse references, just references, in this story and I'll make sure to put a warning in the chapter title, then the type of trigger warning in the first line of the work. Thanks for reading!

~ Eventual smut, bit of a slow burner. Modern setting time skip, reader and Eren are mid 20s ~

~ Pairing Eren Yeager x Fem!reader

"You always this much of an asshole?!" You shout at Eren as tears stream down your face, your heart breaking into a million pieces.

"I guess so." His green eyes break away from you as he turns around and starts walking away.

"Eren! … Eren!" You scream, your vocal cords burning, your vision blurred as tears keep forming.

'Fuck, what is even happening right now?' You think to yourself.

"Eren.." You whisper to yourself as you see the man you love walking away from you.

↳ Table of Contents ↳ Chapter Ⅱ: Emotional Rollercoaster

Chapter Ⅰ: We're Just Friends

Your head bops to the beat of the music that is far too loud in your headset as you wait for your best friend Armin to join your discord voice channel. You’re mouthing the words to Desire by Meg Myers for two reason - one; the song is good, and is a secret wish to fuck someone to this song, and two; you can’t sing very well.

You’re holding your pen to your mouth using it as a mic.

Baby, I wanna touch you

I wanna breathe into your well

See, I gotta hunt you

Though if you weren’t waiting for Armin to join you, you’d have no care in the world but you didn’t want Armin to go deaf because of you. 

You hear the ding as Armin joins your discord, and you pause your music. 

“Heelloooo?” You say as this is the normal way you greet your friends through discord, your hands fidgeting with a pen you were just using as a mic waiting for your friend to respond. 

“Heeloooo?” Armin says back. 

“Arminnnn! How are you, my guy?” You smile to yourself. It’s been awhile since you’ve spoken to your best friend. You and Armin were childhood friends, and though he moved a few states away for a job opportunity you two stayed close. You didn’t want the friendship to dissipate just because he moved away, once he was settled into his new place you two set up a good schedule to have weekly calls in discord together. Usually on Friday nights as it was easier for both of you, but for the past few weeks your guys’ schedules weren’t lining up causing your usual Friday’s to be canceled. Normal, annoying adult things getting in the way.  

“I’ve been good! Just busy with work, and all that. How have you been?”

"Same honestly. Just work, work and more work." You smile to yourself, still fidgeting with the pen continuing, "How's the job been, big shot?" 

After college Armin got offered a job as a marine biologist and got to work on the water a lot, which he always had a love for. You were happy for your friend. 

He laughs into the mic, "Man, it's been so good. Like I knew I'd like the job, but it blew my expectations out of the water honestly. No pun intended there." He lets out a small laugh again, continuing, "How about you? How's your job been going? Any new projects?" 

You and Armin both attended the same college together, but ended up taking didn't classes, you majoring in web design. Your job allowed for you to live anywhere and work from home, while Armin had to move. You almost wondered why you didn't go with your friend, but you still had commitments in your home town. 

"Yeah, we just took on a project for a big company we work with. We're pretty much doing a complete makeover of their website so it's gonna be a lot. We just started this week, but so far so good. Crossing my fingers it stays that way." You cross your fingers in front of your face. 

Of course I’d fucking do that. 

Good god girl. 

You two continued on for a few hours just catching up with life, talking about nothing specific as the conversation flowed between you two. 

Fuck, I have missed this so much. I've missed him so much. 

"How are you and Annie doing?" Armin and Annie had been together since your guys' first year of college and were going strong.

"It's been good, the distance has been a little hard but she'll be moving here with me soon so I think it'll be a lot better when she gets here." 

"Yeah, long distance can be tough I'm sure." You frown to yourself feeling bad for your friend, continuing, "But I'm glad you guys have stuck it out. It’ll be worth it once she moves out there with you." 

"Yeah I agree honestly. You and her should make a trip out here sometime, I think it'd be fun." You can hear the smile in his tone.

You let out a huff, "So I can be the third wheel? Come on Armin." You laugh. "I do want to come out and visit though, you know I'd come out either way." You reassure your friend. 

"Just means you need to get yourself a man then." He laughs, you can hear him typing something on his keyboard in the background. 

You sigh, "Yeah but the men here aren't that great honestly. You've seen them." 

Armin lets out a low laugh, "I have indeed, but I have someone I want to introduce you too. Doesn't need to be anything more, more of a I'd like to introduce him to our small friend group. He just started at my job, and we get along really well. I think you'd like him." 

You smile, "Yeah I'd be down to meet him whenever." 

You hear more typing in the background, "He said he's busy tonight, unfortunately, so maybe tomorrow if everyone is free." 

You pause before answering, wondering if you had anything to do tomorrow. 

Do laundry, dishes. 

Clean the apartment up cause this place is looking a mess. 

Uhh.. anything else? 

I don't think so?

"I've got a few things to do tomorrow just around the place but I'll be down for whenever." 

"Awesome, I'll reach out to him and then let you know. It is getting late though, so I'll probably let you know tomorrow, sound good?" 

You look at the bottom right of your monitor, 11:30PM, yeah it was getting late and you're pretty tired after an exhausting week. 

"Sounds good, just one quick question though." You pause waiting for Armin to say something but he takes too long to answer so you continue, "Does this coworker have a name? Orrrrrrr?" You laugh. 

Armin lets out a small laugh, "Yeah, sorry. His name is Aaron with an E." 

You raise an eyebrow to yourself. 

Aaron with an E? What.. 

Almost like Armin read your mind, "It's not spelled like normal Aaron, it's spelled e r e n." 

Makes sense.

You nod your head to yourself understanding what he's saying, "Gotcha. Eren. I like that spelling. Thank you for clearing that up cause I would have completely spelled his name wrong and Aaron with an E just confused me." You let out a laugh. 

Armin laughs back, "I figured so. But, imma head out for the night. I'll let you know about tomorrow." 

You two said your goodnights and you left the voice channel. You sigh as you turn your computer off, almost like a loneliness settling over you after telling your friend bye. 

You had other friends, sure. But sometimes you just couldn't help but feel lonely with your best friend now being almost ten hours away. Of course you had Hitch and Annie, but the person who has been through the most with you was farther away now. 

Fucking dude had to leave for his job. Maaannnn. I should have left when I had the chance.

You walk into your kitchen, running your finger across the cold countertop stopping at the fridge for a drink before walking back to your bedroom getting ready for bed. 

As you settle in your bed for the night you're scrolling through tiktoks when your phone goes off, displaying a discord message from Armin. 

Armin: Eren said he's free tomorrow evening if we all wanna hang out in discord for a while :) 

You: sounds good, you know I'll be there. What time?? 

Armin's discord status went offline after he sent that message, assuming he wouldn't respond, you put your phone on the charger and drifted off to sleep.

You're woken up suddenly from loud rumbling outside of your window, your hands coming up to your eyes to rub the sleep away. 

You sit up looking out your window. It's gray out, heavy rain filled clouds spread across the sky as rumbles are heard along with rain hitting your window. It's almost calming. 

"Good morning Beanie." You smile as your cat lays at the foot of your bed sleeping, paying you or the storms no mind. 

You reach over grabbing your phone off the nightstand checking the time. "Hhhmm, it's only nine. Nice." Though you wouldn't complain if you were able to sleep in, sleeping in sometimes made you feel like the day was being wasted away, especially since you had stuff to do before this evening. 

You get out of bed, stretching and fixing your blankets making sure to not disturb Beanie who has made no efforts to move since you woke up. 

You make your way into the kitchen, starting your morning cup of coffee as you load the dishwasher, playing your favorite podcast over the Alexa in your kitchen. 

As you finish putting your last dish away, you hear for phone ding. Pressing the power button on your phone to turn the screen on, you smile at your lock screen as it's a picture of Beanie sleeping on your couch as the sun rays kept her warm. You see a discord message from Armin, you click on the notification and unlocking your phone. 

Armin: How does 7pm sound? 

You: sounds good to me, you can invite him to the server whenever you want btw 

You lock your phone, setting it on the counter as you start cleaning up the kitchen. Your mind wanders elsewhere as you mindlessly clean up. 

Hopefully he's nice. 

He's gotta be nice if he's friends with Armin, right? 

Duh. 

Armin wouldn't be friends with an asshole. 

Lowkey a little nervous. 

Eh, I'm sure it'll be fine. 

Meeting new people was never really in your comfort zone. You found it hard to spark up the "meeting new people" type of conversation, the "what do you do for work?" Or, "where did you go to school?" Shit like that. Obviously it's good to know those things, but you enjoyed conversations that were on a deeper level. 

Tell me your hobbies, your favorite band, what you do in your free time. Stuff that tells me about who I'm trying to get to know, not just the stale same ol' same ol' questions. 

You sigh to yourself hoping Eren was a bit more interesting than just wanting to answer all those boring questions or even worse, ask them to you. 

Can you say …. 

B to the O to the R to the ing 

Boring.

The day went rather quickly as you kept finding more things to do around your apartment, and before you knew it it was dinner time. 

"Beanie, dinner time baby!" You weren't too sure where your cat had been most of the day but you knew they'd come around once they heard food hitting their food bowl. 

You drop the food into the bowl, the hard pieces hitting the bowl, "Right on queue." As you see Beanie sprinting from your bedroom into the kitchen as if they haven't eaten in days. 

Typical cat behavior 

Good god 

You laugh out loud to yourself as you open the fridge pulling out your ingredients for dinner. 

"Alexa, play my feels good playlist on spotify." You say to Alexa, as she starts playing songs from that playlist. 

You spend your dinner making time singing into your spoon in between stirring the food that was cooking on your stove. Getting way into it and losing track of time.  

"Ah, shit." You say to yourself looking at the time on your stove. Seven right on the dot, and you still had just a few minutes left of cooking. You grab your phone off the counter, opening discord to message Armin. 

You: don't be mad but I mmaayyyyyyy or may not have misjudged how long it'll take for me to cook dinner. I'll be there in 5 promise 

You leave your phone on as you do one last stir of the food, and grab a plate from the cabinet next to you. As you're dumping your food onto the plate you hear your phone go off. 

You mumble the message Armin sent you, rolling your eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I'm comingggggggg." You say to yourself as if he could hear you. 

You set your plate down at your desk and power on your pc. Grabbing your favorite blanket, sitting down and putting your headset on. 

You hear the ding in your headset as you join the discord, it's silent but you notice Eren is muted. 

"Uh, hello?" You say stuffing a fork full of food in your mouth. 

"Oh hey, didn't hear you join, sorry. Was watching a video. How'd your dinner turn out?" Armin asked. 

Your mouth is still half full of food, covering your mouth, "It's yummy." You let out a small laugh. 

You hear Armin laughing as well. 

"What’d you make?" Your eyes shoot up to look at your screen, you hadn't even noticed Eren unmuted himself, his voice almost surprising you. 

"Ope." You laugh at your own surprise. "I made potatoes, peppers, sausage and crack two eggs in it. It's like breakfast food but for dinner I guess." You giggle again. 

"It's really good, honestly." Armin chimes in. 

Eren lets out an almost nervous sounding laugh, "It sounds pretty good." 

Okay, well at least it's not just you who seems nervous. 

"So Eren," Armin starts, "This is my best friend (y/n), we've been buds since we were kids." Armin introduces you to Eren. 

You can hear the smile in Armin's tone, "And (y/n) this is Eren." 

After introductions, conversation actually came easily between the three of you. There were a few questions of Eren asking about your job, but they seemed more like curiosity than anything. You happily filled him in on what you did and how you loved to work from home to which he said he was jealous of. One reason being the convenience and secondly because that meant he could travel. 

You smile to yourself, "So you like to travel then?" 

"If I had more time and money, I'd love to travel more. When I was younger my family did travel a good bit but now not so much." His voice almost sounded sad as he ended his sentence. 

Family talk with Eren is a sensitive subject. 

Got it. 

"But," He continued, "Once I get stable at this job, I will one hundred percent be traveling more." 

"Didn't you tell me you wanted to go to Germany one day?" Armin chimes in, he's been surprisingly quiet after the introductions but you figured he didn't want to interrupt the easy flowing conversation between you and Eren. 

He let out a small laugh, "Yeah I do. My family is mostly German, and figured going there for that reason alone would be cool." 

You nod your head to yourself, "That'd be sick honestly. I hope you get to do that!" Excitement filling your voice. 

"Yeah, me too." He lets out a relieved sigh. 

All three of you ended up staying in the voice channel for several more hours. Sharing stories of you and Armin growing up, stuff that happened in high school, Eren sharing the same about himself. 

You could confidently say this was the smoothest time you've had meeting someone in years. Usually you were too awkward, or didn't know how to fill the dead air. But with Eren, it just seemed to flow between you two. You liked that about him. 

After saying your goodbyes, you leave your office feeling almost warm and fuzzy on the inside. Relieved that it wasn't the same feeling of loneliness that washed over you yesterday after you and Armin chatted. 

You smiled to yourself as you got your glass of water for the evening, and putting your dirty plate into the sink being left for the morning. 

After finishing your nightly routine, you snuggle into your sheets turning on your phone screen. To your surprise you had a discord friend request from Eren and a message from him. 

After accepting the friend request you got into his messages, 

Eren: Hey, just wanted to say thank you for this evening. I know I barely know you, but tonight with you and Armin was really nice and well needed for me. 

Eren: hopefully that's not too weird to say.. 

Eren: oh well, lol. Thank you again, hope we can chat soon :) 

Your heart feels warm and fuzzy again as you smile at his messages. You were honestly glad you weren't the only one who felt that way. 

You start typing out your response to him. 

You: hhiiiii! not weird at all to say so please don't think that. It was super nice, and well needed for me too! I'm sure we'll talk soon :) 

Do I tell him goodnight? 

Is that too weird? He didn't even say goodnight. 

Your fingers are hovering over your keyboard. 

Girl, he didn't even say it. What are you doing? 

Your fingers clearly doing whatever they want as they move across your keyboard on your phone. 

You: goodnight eren :) 

Ope.

You already hit send too late now. 

I mean you could delete it. 

Should I? 

Nah, don't be a pussy. 

Your phone vibrates in your hand.  Eren: goodnight (y/n) :)

The next morning you’re woken up to your alarm, resulting in your groaning out in tiredness as you grab your phone off the nightstand turning the alarm off. Once the alarm is off you’re looking around your room just taking in the peace and quiet. The sun's warm morning rays hitting your bedroom casting a pretty light throughout the room. 

You reach back over to your nightstand, grabbing your phone and holding it in front of your face. You see a message from Hitch, and a discord message from Armin as well. You unlock your phone, rubbing your eye with one hand as you open your text messages to see what Hitch said. 

You met Hitch in high school, and you two have stayed friends since. She was a ride or die type of friend, always there when you needed her - being a shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to whenever you needed it. Of course you did the same for her. 

Bestiiieee: goodmorning beautiful. What are you up to today? Wanna do something? 

You: good morning my beautiful friend. i should be pretty free today.

Bestiiieee: I just wanted to get some lunch with you if thats cool, ive got some stuff to do today so i can’t spend my whole day with you :( 

You laugh at her response.

You: how daaareee you not spend every waking moment today with me! :( but i’d be down for some lunch! 

You close out of your message and open discord to read Armin’s message.  

Armin: good morning! 

Armin: so what’d you think of eren? You two seemed to have hit it off pretty well

What could you say, he made you feel comfortable. 

You: good morning :) yeah i liked eren, he seems really nice. Hopefully he wants to stay in the friend group 

You go back to your text messages and finish making plans with Hitch, after getting out of bed and getting your morning coffee. You sip on your hot drink looking out your window that looks down to the streets below, the sun still shining nicely through that window washing over you with warmth. You smile, looking down and seeing Beanie sitting on the floor next to your feet looking out the window. 

“You like the sun too, huh?” You reach out and pet her head as she starts purring, standing up and rubbing her sides against your legs. You sit on the floor with Beanie as you continue to drink your coffee and keep petting her. 

“I love you so much you preeettttyyy baby.” You kiss her head, getting up off the floor, setting the cup down on your countertop and heading into the bathroom to get ready for your lunch with Hitch.

“So, how are you and Marlo doing?” You give a small smirk to your friend who sits across the table from you. 

Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink at the mention of her boyfriend. She smiles, “Ugh! Babes - we’ve been so good.” A big smile still on her face as she continues, “He’s just so sweet, and kind to me. Treats me how I should be treated, and it’s a nice change.” 

You smile at her, taking a sip of your drink before speaking, “Well Hitch, I’m really glad to hear that honestly. If anyone deserves it, it would be you.” You point your fork at her. 

She raises an eyebrow letting out a small hum, “Yeah, but you do too girl. When was the last time you had someone? Hm?” 

She was right, it had been way too long since your last relationship. But your last relationship wasn’t a good one, he was mentally abusive to you, made you feel worthless - like you didn’t matter to anyone and it put you in a dark place. Though you got out safely, he still left his effect on your brain and your confidence in yourself. You knew it was stupid to let that idiot still have this hold on you, but healing and forgetting about that asshole was easier said than done. It was true that it kept you from having any form of romantic relationship, just too hard for you to let down those walls and to share yourself with people. 

Your eyes look down at your food, picking your fork through your food. “I know, just has been hard since Charley. I’m really fucking trying Hitch, but fuck. It’s been hard.” You feel pines in your eyes as tears gather at the corner of your eyes, you look up at Hitch offering her a sad smile. 

Her happy, curious face changed into sadness as she looked into your eyes. She reaches her hand over the table grabbing your hand, holding yours in hers, her thumb rubbing across the top of your hand. “I know babe. I know it’s been hard.” She searches your eyes for any type of reaction, but you just simply keep listening to her, waiting. She continues, “You will find someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Someone will come along, and will give you that confidence about breaking down those walls and showing them who you really are. You know you’re a great person, right?” She squeezes your hand, “We all love you. But,” She looks into your eyes and offers a small smile, “You need to give people that chance to. You don’t get to know someone overnight.” 

You look down, your free hand under the table grabbing the bottom of your shirt hoping to relieve some of the anxiety you were feeling. 

You sigh, “I know, I know. I get it, I really fucking do Hitch. But it’s been so hard. It’s just easier to not get closer to anyone anymore.” 

Hitch lets go of your hand, leaning back in her chair. “I know, I get it. But promise me one thing.” 

“And what’s that?” You already knew what she was going to ask you. 

She’s going to ask for you to at least try. 

I’m sure she’ll tell me again at some point. 

God, you’re a mess, huh? 

“Can you at least try to let people in that you meet if you think they’re worth the time? Please?” She offers a small smile to you, eyes flicking between yours. 

You nod your head, “Only if I think they’re worth it. Otherwise,” You pause, raising your eyebrow, “They aren’t worth the effort.” You let out a small laugh. 

Hitch smiles at you, “Okay, fair enough.” She laughs. 

Do I say something to her about Eren? 

Like .. we’re just friends, but he made me feel so comfortable with just the short amount of time we chatted. 

Fuck. 

She’d find out eventually from Armin, right? 

Might as well tell her either way. 

“So,” You start, cheeks feeling a little red as Hitch raises an eyebrow to you, “Armin introduced me to one of his coworkers yesterday in discord, and it surprisingly went really well.” 

“Well of course it did, you’re a hard person to not like. But how was this coworker? He pass the vibe check?” She takes a sip of her drink. 

You smile at her, “Yeah I think so. He was so easy to talk to, conversation between the three of us just flowed super easy. His name is Eren.” 

She raises an eyebrow to you, looking down at her drink as she laughs. “Why you got that look on your face, Hitch?” 

The smile on her face continues to stay, “No reason.” She giggles, continuing, “I’m glad that he seemed cool though, that’s always good to hear.” 

You roll your eyes, “Hitch, we literally just met. He just seems really nice, it’s nothing more.” 

She nods her head as if she doesn’t believe the last part, smiling, “Either way. Glad you three all got along. Do you know what he looks like?” 

Of course she’d ask that. 

You smile at her, “Nah. But if he works with Armin, probably some nerdy looking dude if I’m guessing.” You laugh, though you were sure there were all types of people at Armin’s job, you really couldn’t picture anyone looking different than Armin really.    

She shrugs her shoulders, “He could look god tier for all you know.” 

You look at her, returning the shrug smiling, “Yeah, who knows.”

A/N: thank you for reading this new fanfic, was literally making dinner and this came to mind and i had to act on it. hopefully yall like it, and thank you for reading - pretty excited about this one. see yall in the next chapter.

[mypoisonedvine]

It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie​​‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet​​ which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll​​ for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark.  And hoo boy, did I run with that.  I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness.  Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.  

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having.  Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide. 

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.  

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head.  It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in.  He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like.  He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.  

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head.  “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy.  He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class.  But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe?  I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder.  “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.  

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted.  Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully.  “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately.  She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50?  He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious.  You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers.  You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself.  If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop.  He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything.  “I… we have comp together?  You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up.  “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop.  “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?” 

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him.  “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.  

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--” 

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work.  “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.  

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.  

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least.  Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled.  “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit.  “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there’s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned.  “Like basic functions on matrices!  Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices.  If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed.  You hadn’t really meant it literally.  

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged.  It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math.  You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once.  He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips.  He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked.  And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before.  This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator.  This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense.  How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop.  He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace.  Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears.  A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right?  Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going?  It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.  

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down.  God, he was strong.  He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular.  You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.  

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit.  Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly.  It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really.  You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way!  It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming.  You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point.  But at this point, it was unstoppable.  You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet.  Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs.  But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell.  Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.  

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth.  You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds.  You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore.  Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more.  You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black.  “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire.  “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open.  It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls.  You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you?  You love my cock,” he growled.  His voice was lower, gravelly.  He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn.  “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.  

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience.  You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it.  But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal.  God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess.  Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly.  “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh?  You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that?  You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell.  Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?  You asked me to fuck you.  Begged me.  Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words.  You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed.  “But, maybe you’re not playing.  You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could.  “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet.  Isn’t that right?  You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before.  Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs.  Your toes went numb.  You didn’t even know that could happen.  And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.”  You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to.  You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you.  For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder.  “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before.  It was comforting, but you were still a little confused.  “Really?”

He laughed softly.  “Did you not notice?  God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled.  “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky.  You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math.  Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out?  Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now?  Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table.  He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification.  You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow.  It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow.  No assignments due today, either.  And what was with the row/seat thing?  Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification.  It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message.  “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name.  You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned.  Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him?  How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation.  Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pictures now?  I did what you asked.  I won’t tell anyone.  just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick.  You had no idea what this meant but it scared you.  You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense.  You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie.  But she wasn’t alone.  She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.  

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was.  You realized why now.  She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade.  You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material.  It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it.  You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there.  But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages.  Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14.  45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera.  PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8.  12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups.  ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5.  6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror.  PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2.  14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop.  It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13.  1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently.  Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin.  “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work.  “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend.  What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything.  They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it.  Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged.  “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed.  “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific.  You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl.  You even had pretty good security, I respect that.  Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop.  It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it.  Including yourself.”

You shivered.  “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself.  And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job.  You watch some interesting stuff.  And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please.  This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little.  “You look better in person though.  A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what?  I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends.  You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised.  “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick.  But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you.  Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders.  Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation.  Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button.  He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw.  “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are.  Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way.  A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.    

[hotmesshapa]

VIP • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x female reader

genre: smut • DJ!chan x stripper!reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.6k

warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, slight jealousy, very light orgasm denial and spanking, a bit of fluff

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in literal years and I have no idea what I’m doing, so I’m sorry in advance lol. also shoutout to these lovelies for being interested from the start 🖤 @mikoto-ica-fics @missskzbiased @bratforbin​ @jungkooksbroski​ 

There are three strict rules in the club: no touching the strippers, no romantic work relationships, and absolutely no sex in the club. Your manager had everyone sign off on his rules for a reason; you didn’t even want to imagine the chaos that could ensue if everyone was allowed to do whatever they desired in the club.

However, whenever Chan was DJing on the nights you worked, you always considered blowing off those rules. But you knew better. You both enjoyed your jobs at the club and wouldn’t risk getting fired over something as stupid breaking the few rules, despite the obvious sexual tension between the two of you. It’s not your fault that he always came into work wearing tight shirts that clung to his muscles in ways that made you drool. It’s not your fault that he flirted back whenever you playfully hit on him while handing off your playlist for the night. It’s not your fault you noticed the way his eyes hungrily stared you down whenever you were on the main stage, or the way his jaw clenched in jealousy whenever you took a guest to the VIP room.

But rules are meant to be broken, right?

Tonight starts out no different from any other work night: greeting the other girls and bartenders, taking a quick shot of tequila for an extra boost of confidence, and digging through your purse trying to find your flash drive of songs you want played for your routines.

“Got anything new for me, babygirl?”

You snap your head up at the sound of the handsome DJ’s voice. “Hello to you too, Chan,” you reply, rolling your eyes. He shamelessly checks you out and gives you a cocky grin that you can’t decide if it makes you want smack him or pounce on him “You know if Minho hears you speak to me like that, you’re in a world of shit.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s not here tonight. But even if he was, he wouldn’t dare fire me. I’m the best DJ this club has.”

“Well then, fuck my drag,” Changbin pipes up from behind the booth, shooting a glare at Chan. “If you’re so great, set up your own table then.”

“Don’t listen to him, Binnie,” you giggle as you go back to searching for your flash drive, “He just likes to think he has all the power around here.”

Changbin scoffs as he continues to set up his mixers. “Only when you’re around. The other girls would kill to have him flirt with them.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the comment, but try your best to ignore the feeling as you turn back to Chan and hand him your music. “I have some new songs for tonight. Feel free to play whichever ones you want to watch me dance to.”

“Jesus,” Changbin rolls his eyes, “get a room, you two.”

You shoot Chan a quick wink, earning a smirk from him, and turn around to head to the dressing rooms, well aware his eyes are glued to you as you leave.

You close the door behind you and set your purse down on the vanity, checking your phone and cursing at the time. You hadn’t realized that your mini flirting session took up more time than expected, and start frantically getting ready, changing into your black satin two-piece that left very little to the imagination and applying a generous amount of body highlighter to every exposed part of you.

As you stare at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think about what Changbin had said. You and Chan flirt all the time, and normally it doesn’t affect you, but something about Changbin’s comment has your head spinning. Something about discovering Chan only flirts with you just makes you want to break the rules even more, but you don’t want to risk your jobs just because you desperately want him to dick him down. You wouldn’t do that to him. You sigh and slip into your stilettos, checking your appearance one last time before stepping out onto the main floor for your night to begin.

The night had been running smoothly as usual: three pole routines with the songs Chan chose from your collection (all by The Weeknd, of course), and a few rotations around the club flirting with guests, giving a couple of lapdances. You have a generous amount of bills tucked into your thong and bra, and you pull them out to count, trying to smooth them out and make them look somewhat presentable. You make your way to the DJ booth, where you find Chan leaning against the wall beside the booth, scrolling through his phone and sipping on a beer, while Changbin is behind the table, engrossed with the set he was playing.

“Here,” you say, handing Chan his tip. “You made some really good choices tonight. I had a feeling you’d choose The Weeknd.”

“What can I say,” he smirks, “You can’t just give me the option to play his hottest songs and not expect me to do anything about it. Especially when I get to watch you dance to them.” 

He suddenly leans in, closing any space there was between you two. “By the way, your routine to ‘Life of the Party’? So. Fucking. Hot,” he purrs, looking straight into the eyes.

“Chan,” your voice falters for a second, your eyes unintentionally dropping to his lips, before bringing them back up to meet his stare. You clear your throat in efforts to recover, desperately trying to ignore the heat rising in your core. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Come on, Y/N, would that be so bad?”

“God, I can’t leave you two alone for one set, can I?” Changbin slides himself between you and the other DJ, throwing an arm over your shoulder and playfully wiggling his eyebrows at you both.

You elbow him in the ribs, earning a dramatic cry from him in return, and you can’t help but giggle. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Three shots? Maybe four? I don’t remember.” He hums in appreciation as you hand him a wad of cash. “I can’t believe I’m gonna pay this month’s rent with your ass money,” he laughs, trying to shake off as much body glitter from the bills you handed him before sliding them into his wallet.

You roll your eyes. “I can give you tit money, if you pref-“

“There’s my baby!”

The three of you spin around at the familiar voice, coming face to face with a young man, his dark hair grazing his eyes as he shamelessly checks you out.

“Jisung! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Changbin greets the man with a typical bro handshake, before swinging an arm around his neck. “Here for the usual?”

“Of course,” Jisung smiles at you, “It’s not a Friday night without a visit with Y/N.”

Jisung was one of your regulars; he came in every Monday and Friday to book private lapdances with you, and only you. The first night he booked you, he almost immediately admitted how enamored he was with you, and ever since then, he refused to book with any of the other girls. And to be fair, you might have allowed him to break one of the rules, letting him grab your ass, hips and breasts as you danced, especially since that always earned a better tip from him. But now, while he still did request lapdances every now and then, he mainly booked you just to talk, and fortunately for you, he still tipped generously. He was an assistant to a big-time music producer, a job that came with a handful of stressors that he just needed to rant to someone about, and you were always willing to be there to listen.

While the relationship you and Jisung formed over the past year is strictly platonic, that hadn’t stopped Chan from developing a slight sense of jealousy. And to make matters more complicated, Jisung was well aware of that tension and loved to push the DJ’s buttons, much to your chagrin.

Jisung shifts his focus to Chan, giving him a cocky smirk that you know will be followed by a snarky comment. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty lil’ lady all day. You don’t mind if I steal her away, do you?”

“Of course not,” scoffs Chan, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need my permission. She doesn’t belong to me.”

“Awww. And I know that must be difficult for yo-”

“But she doesn’t belong to you either.”

Jisung says nothing for a moment, before cocking his head at the DJ with a smirk and stepping towards him. “Oh? Is that so? I don’t see anyone else going to the VIP room with her the nights I’m here.”

“Guys-” you feebly try to take control of the situation, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“Y/N is a human being, not a fucking dog, Jisung. Nobody ‘owns’ her.” Chan crosses his arms against his chest, looking the younger man dead in the eye. “If anything, considering you’ve been coming here and paying her the big bucks, for what, a year now? I’d say she’s the one that owns you.”

Jisung smirk immediately disappears and you swear you can feel the air between the two men flood with tension. But within an instant, he smiles again, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Now, now, there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her and have some fun for the both of us. If you want, I can tell you all about it later.”

You quickly glance at Chan, his fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps, his jaw clenching so hard he looks like he could bust a vein in his neck.

“That’s enough,” Changbin interjects, massaging his temples in frustration. “Come on, Chan, you’re in the booth next. And Jisung? Just remember the club rules-”

“I know, I know,” Jisung rolls his eyes and turns back to you. “Shall we, baby?”

You nod, silently praying that Changbin will calm everything down once you leave, and the two of you head to the VIP room. Jisung opens the door follows you inside, jumping in surprise when you slam it shut and shoot him a glare, and he only laughs in response. “What? If you can tease him, why can’t I?”

You sit on the maroon leather couch in the VIP room, counting your tips and mentally making sure you had enough to pay your upcoming bills for the month. Jisung had left about twenty minutes ago, and the lack of muffled music from the main floor indicates that it’s finally 3am and the club is closed for the night. You release a long sigh, slouching in your seat and resting your head back on the couch. You close your eyes, your mind still reeling from everything that happened. Everything about tonight shocked you. Usually, Chan was good at hiding his jealousy, since the last thing both of you want was to scare away potential guests, or for Minho to notice. But Chan talking back? His reaction to Jisung’s last jab before leaving for the VIP room? Those were new.

You have never seen Chan that jealous, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it was fucking hot. Thoughts of Chan not only standing up for you, but also being possessive of you, and what he could do to you out of jealousy filled your head, and you feel a sudden tingle shoot down to your core. Everything in you knows that you shouldn’t fuck Chan. There are rules, but you can’t stop your mind from imagining all the possible sinful acts you could do with him that you would do anything for at this point. You know that would be a bad idea, but the delicious wetness pooling between your thighs shoves any inhibitions you previously had out the door.

Fuck the rules.

You walk out onto the empty main floor, letting out a breath of relief to find Chan packing up his mixers - alone. You tap on the booth to get his attention, giggling when he jumps in surprise.

“You’re still here? I’d thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I was just counting tips,” you reply as you glance around the club, making sure you two were truly alone. “Chan… about earlier-”

“Yeah... sorry about that.” He lets out a long sigh and runs his fingers through his dark, messy hair, the tips of his ears turning pink in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I just... you know I get a bit jealous sometimes, and that prick was being extra annoying about it tonight.”

“Not gonna lie though, your clapback was pretty great. And hilarious,” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He laughs. “Yeah, well I’m glad you thought it was, because Changbin sure as hell lectured me about it for a solid 15 minutes.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as Chan goes back to packing up the table. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to ease any tension that might be lingering, and to bring up what you truly want from him. “Chan... Jisung and I just talk when we’re in the VIP room. Nothing happens-”

He shakes his head, keeping his focus on his current task. “You don’t need to tell me, Y/N. It’s honestly none of my business what you do with the guests. Like I said earlier, you don’t belong to me.”

“But what if I want to?”

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his stare flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you with such an intensity that ignites a fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, placing kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen, and it makes you smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing onto yours, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, indicating how desperately  both of you have been wanting to do this.

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you back with such an intensity that further ignites the fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you softly moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, planting kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen as he brings a hand up to gently cup your cheek, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing down onto yours, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you instantly give him. You can feel his hard on growing beneath his jeans as he rolls his hips against you once more, making the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hey, so I’m done-”

Changbin’s voice abruptly interrupts your heated rendezvous, making you frantically scramble out of Chan’s arms and dive underneath the table, while Chan quickly pretends to continue breaking down the DJ booth.

“You guys are literally the least discreet people I know. It blows my mind that you haven’t been caught yet.” You can’t see him, you just know Changbin is shooting Chan one of his signature death glares, intended for the both of you. You poke your head out from behind the booth, which only gets you dramatic eye roll from the other DJ. “Just don’t make a mess and don’t forget to lock up,” he grumbles as he turns to leave. “Oh, by the way bro, you got shit on your face.”

You glance up at Chan, giggling at your lipstick smeared along his lips, jaw, and neck, the bright red color prominent against his pale skin. He narrows his eyes at you, and you innocently mouth the word “whoops”, grinning as he rolls his eyes.

As soon as you hear the doors close, Chan pulls you to your feet, lifting you up and pinning you to the table. He attacks your neck and collarbones with rough kisses, but thankfully not rough enough to leave any marks that’ll need to be covered up for your next shift. Desperate for more, you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your hips up against his, smirking against his lips as he groans into your mouth.

Chan begins to plant wet kisses down your stomach as his hands frantically move from your hips to his belt. He begins to undo the buckle before you grab his hands to stop him, which only gets out a small whimper in confusion from the man. “Not here,” you lean up to pull him closer and playfully nip his bottom lip, before grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling it so he’s looking you straight in the eyes. “The VIP room.”

Chan’s eyes darken with lust as he harshly kisses you again, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, but it makes the heat between your legs grow by the second. You let out a yelp in surprise as he lifts you into his arms without warning, making his way to the infamous room where he’s watched you lead guests into night after night.

The second he steps into the VIP room, it’s as if both of your desires are kicked into overdrive, the desperation for what you’ve been waiting for all this time becoming almost unbearable. You take his bottom lip between your teeth again and tug on it lightly, relishing the way his grip on your ass tightens exponentially. Chan kicks the door closed, not breaking the kiss for one second as he sits down on the leather couch, positioning you so that you’re straddling his lap. You can feel his prominent bulge underneath the rough material of his jeans as he ruts up against your clothed heat, and you whimper as you grind against him, desperately wanting more and trying to indicate how much you want him need him now. You feel his hands firmly hold you in place, halting your motions and making you whine in frustration, which only earns you a low chuckle in response.

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you want.”

You roughy kiss him and swivel your hips against him, smirking when he releases a throaty groan against your lips. You take a hold of the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him away from you so you can look him in his lust-filled eyes. “I want you, Chan. All of you.”

Chan smirks, giving you a quick kiss before lifting you off his lap, pulling down his jeans and flinging them off to god knows where. You hastily rip off your two piece and toss it haphazardly across the room, giggling when Chan pulls you back into his lap the second you’re bare in front of him. His gaze is locked on your form, taking you all in before looking back into your eyes. He stares at you as if you are a goddess, and you feel your cheeks flush from the attention.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters, his hands sliding up and down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He brings one hand to your jaw, pulling you into a searing kiss, his other hand taking hold his rigid member and sliding it through your sopping folds, making you shameless moan aloud. “Ride me babygirl,” Chan mumbles as he begins to kiss and nip at your collarbone, “take what you want from me.”

With that, you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, keening at the way he deliciously stretches you out, finally giving you the taste of what you’ve been wanting for so long. Chan throws his head back, screwing his eyes shut, a sinful groan falling from lips as you sit on him completely. Giving yourself a moment to adjust to his size, you wrap your arms around neck and pull him back so he’s meeting your gaze. You take his hands and intertwine them with yours, pinning them behind his head as you begin to ride him, slowly lifting yourself off him before quickly dropping back down. A string of illicit moans and curses falls from Chan’s lips, his hands firmly gripping yours, desperately trying to keep himself from breaking your grasp and taking control. He trails wet kisses down your chest, licking your nipples before taking them into his mouth and rolling them between his teeth, making you whimper and lean into his touch. You pick up for pace, admiring the way his face contorts into different expressions of pleasure as he throws his head back and looks up at you with glassy eyes.

“S-shit babygirl...”

His bout of self control doesn’t last much longer, because the next thing you know, Chan rips his hands from your grip, placing them on your hips as he begins to thrust up into you, meeting your movements halfway, hitting you in just the right spot. He moves a hand from your hips to rub firm circles against your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

“F-fuck... Chan- oh my god...”

You try your best to continue to ride him, but you feel your thighs getting weaker and weaker with every thrust. You feel the pressure in your core building to the point of complete euphoria, when he lifts you off of him completely. You whine in frustration, feeling your high fade, hating how empty you feel without him buried inside you.

“Don’t worry baby,” Chan chuckles at your protests, suddenly flipping you around and positioning you on all fours on the couch. He places a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, before moving up to nibble your earlobe. “You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

He aligns himself with your entrance and eases into you, the new position allowing him to fill you deeper than before, making you both release illicit moans at the feeling. Chan slowly retracts his rock hard member from you, only to instantly plunge back into you, taking no time to pick up the pace, slamming into you at a rate that’s making you see stars. The momentum of his actions force you forward on the couch, making you cling desperately to the armrest in attempt to stable yourself, praying your shaky legs won’t completely give out underneath him. Suddenly, a sharp slap comes down on your ass, making you cry out and clench around him.

“Fuck... you like that, baby?” He massages where his hand had landed, only to spank your ass once more.

“G-god, yes Chan... p-please... harder.”

You feel another slap, come down on your other cheek, this time much harder, and you can’t help but moan loudly at the feeling, the delicious sting causing your grip around his cock to tighten exponentially. You hear him let out a low groan as his hips begin to slap against yours at a brutal speed, and you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel again.

“C-Chan, I’m... I’m close...”

“I know, babygirl, I can feel you.” Chan leans over you and plants rough kisses against your neck. “Go on, Y/N, cum for me.”

With his permission, you come undone around him, your release white hot, hitting you like a train and making your mind go completely blank as he continues to roll his hips into you, helping you ride out your high. Your legs feel useless under you, but thankfully Chan’s firm grip on your hips keeps you from collapsing from exhaustion. His thrusts start to become more and more erratic, desperately chasing his own high, groaning at the feeling of your tight pussy still throbbing around him. You can tell he’s close, and clench around him hard, smirking as you hear a string of curses fall from his lips, his hips rutting and quivering against you as he paints your walls white, and you hum in content at the warm feeling.

Chan slowly pulls out of you and falls back on the couch, gently pulling you so you’re laying on top of him. You leans up and playfully nip at his bottom lip, making him chuckle.

“That was...”

“Amazing,” you giggle, burying your face into his chest.

A comfortable silence falls between you two, and you eyes flutter close as you bask in heat the radiates from his body. He absentmindedly run his fingers lightly up and down your back, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” He quietly asks, as if he’s hesitant to bring it up again. “Do you want want to belong to me?”

You look up at him, and you swear you can feel your heart expand at the way he’s staring back at you with so much hope and adoration. “I do... god I really do, Chan, but you know we can’t. We barely manage to flirt without getting caught, so this has to be one-time thing-“

“I got offered a job at a different club,” Chan quickly blurts out. “It has better hours, more creative freedom since I wouldn’t be DJing for strippers... If I took it, would it change things?”

“You’d do that? But you love this job.”

“I do, but not gonna lie, I mainly love it because I get to see you.” His comment makes you blush, and you bury your face in his chest again if efforts to keep him from noticing, which only gets you a soft laugh as he gently tips your chin up to face him again.

“Honestly, if it means I can do what we just did with you whenever we wanted, without having to worry about stupid rules or anything, then fuck yeah I’d take another job. The only downside is I won’t be able to watch you dance when I work.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, laughing when you just roll your eyes at him.

You sit up, positioning yourself so that you’re straddling him once more. “That just means you’ll have to come back here as a guest.”

“Hmmm...” he mumbles as his eyes travel up and down your body, his hands reaching around and lightly squeezing your ass. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow the club rules though.”

“Don’t worry about those,” you purr, leaning down and nibbling on his ear, earning a quiet moan from him. “If you become my regular, all the rules are off the table.”

“I like the sound of that.” Chan gently cups your jaw and pulls you into a tender, but passionate kiss.

You smile against him, running your fingers through his hair, before pulling away slightly, your forehead resting against his. “Then I’m yours, Chan.”

“And I’m yours as well,” he whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips, before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, earning him a yelp from you. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. “What do you say, let me show how I can really treat you in the VIP room?”

[kunimikat]

When they find out you don’t love them anymore

(Heyyy, so there might be a few grammar errors, but this one is pretty long so hold on) Also do you want the good endings to these? Idk just asking

It started when you didn’t hang out as much with him

You’d make up excuses, ignore, or even give small lies

But he didn’t really take it in any way other than it was you having a hard time with school and stress

So he let you distance yourself

But when you started getting further, and started purposely giving out of the box reasons to not be around him

His gut started to churn

So each day he’d tried to get some way to get your attention

Monday

“Hey dumbass, let’s cook breakfast for the rest of the idiots today, just you and me.”

But when he went to get you up you just turned the other way. He rolled his eyes, a small smile making its way onto his face. The ash-blonde propped a knee up onto the edge of your bed, his hands caging you between them. Yet you barely reacted and instead you mumbled “Go away Bakugo, aren’t you supposed to cook with someone else today?” A hurt expression washed over his face in an instant, though he just thought it was just you being groggy. He started tickling you, a devilish smirk on his features, but you suddenly push his face back forcefully.

“I said get the hell out Bakugo! If it was you you’d be fuming when I try to wake you up so just go!”

You pulled the cover back up, and that was it. It hurt Bakugo even more when you didn’t even look back. But he just snarled and pent it up.

Breakfast didn’t taste as good as usual.

.

Tuesday

You were laughing with Todoroki when Bakugo entered the classroom. And he already didn’t like it as soon as he saw your hand on his shoulder, your leg brushed up against him. He immediately went over and snatched you back into his chest. You scoff “Bakugo- The hell?” You smack his hand off of you. You glare at him before nodding to Todoroki, not sparing Bakugo a glance as you walked back to your seat, starting conversation with Jirou as if that didn’t just happen. Bakugo stared wide eyed at your back then to a smirking Todoroki. He stood frozen. “Just lay off my s/o half n’ half.” He mumbleds as he went to his seat. ‘Was I....was I the wrong one?’ Bakugo jerked his head to the side to get rid of the thought. ‘Like hell I’m wrong.’

But he felt a pit in his stomach remembering your hand on Todoroki’s shoulder.

.

Wednesday

Bakugo wanted to take you hiking with him since you guys had been doing what you’ve wanted to do for the past few months.

But he didn’t expect you to be so upset.

“Really Bakugo? We always have to do some lame shit when you want to go somewhere, do you really like hiking anyway?”

He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyed confusion because you even asked that question.

“No shit, I’ve told you how many times I go hiking, do you not fucking listen? Last time I checked you ain’t deaf, so I thought you’d know by now.”

You quirked your brow up and rolled your eyes, walking off. Bakugo grabs your arm dragging you back, your faces so close your noses are touching.

“The fuck is your problem today? For the past few days you been bitching off, the hell is up with-“

“You, you’re my problem.”

And you pushed him back, opening your phone as you started to text someone and turn the corner in the hall.

Bakugo didn’t want to acknowledge the tears that streamed down his face as he walked to his dorm.

.

Thursday

Bakugo won the challenge in today’s lesson overall, yet he couldn’t help but look over and see your eyes on Todoroki the whole time. Even when he pushed himself, blew the biggest explosions, even won the damn thing. He couldn’t even get an ounce of his own s/o’s attention.

Bakugou huffs as he stormed to where and Todoroki were. He wrapped a arm around your waist. But he didn’t pay attention on the unimpressed expression on your face. But he did hear when you called back to Todoroki, “You did your best out there! See you tomorrow!”

And just like that you got of his arms and walked back to the locker rooms. But he grabbed your hand pulling you back almost instantaneously. “The fuck? You’re not gonna say anything to me? Is this a fucking joke?” A perplexed and pained expression on his face. But he was tempted to really do something when you sighed and started to walk off. “Yeah good job Bakugo, not like you need a boost in your ego though.”

For some reason hanging out with Kirishima at the arcade was the most amount of happiness Bakugo has had all week.

But as soon as he got back to the dorms the same depressing feeling washed over him.

Friday

“But why? Why don’t you love me anymore damn it!”

It was raining hard, the droplets kept mixing with the harsh rain as you both stood over the now soiled picnic food. He tried, he tried everything to get you to listen to him. But now you both just stood silently in the rain.

“I’m sorry Bakugo...it’s just I’m not really interested anymore. It not like I hate you or anything-“

“BULLSHIT!”

Bakugo was seething, rain starting to evaporate on his hands as they flared up.

“This past week...no,fuck, MONTH! You just cast me to the side like I’m a piece of fucking scum! I try...I try so fucking hard, and I’ve never even been in a damn relationship before! So I know I’m not perfect, I FUCKING KNOW. I KNOW I’m not like a prince like fucking half n half, but damn don’t you see I’m trying to work it out? I haven’t felt this much for anyone before Y/N! WHY... WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH? WHAT DID I DO SO WRONG? FUCK Y/N I’LL EVEN CHANGE! JUST.. Bakugo went quiet as a sob wracked his body, leaving him speechless for a moment. His voice cracks, “..don’t leave me alone Y/N, I don’t want to feel alone again after all this time.”

Yet even after Bakugo crouched to the ground, head in hands. He hears a disappointed sigh, his head almost gets whiplash from how fast he shot his head up. You looked at him with cold eyes and looked down at him with no interest.

“Listen Bakugo, I tried being nice about it but, I don’t love you anymore. I thought you were stronger than this, I guess not. What a shame. You brought me out here to say all of that? I’m cold, and I’m heading back to the dorms, but I did clean up the picnic during your tantrum. Sorry, Bakugo.”

Yet the apology was so cold it just felt like blurred lines of sentences came from your mouth to him. The rain drowning out any emotions other than the hurt and pain his heart felt. Bakugo sat in the muddy grass, his eyes blown as he reached pitifully at your form trudging farther and farther through the mud.

Aftermath

He just wasn’t the same.

Bakugo was even more aggressive but most times he’d take it out on the people that got too close to him.

But when he’s not angry, he’s just silent

Dozing off the all of a sudden at random times in class you’d look over to see his desk charred and he doesn’t even realize it

He’d had constant stress from the piling work on his desk as he sat in bed and stared at it with no motivation

Even though he got back on track, and a bit better, it still gnawed at the back of his head everyday of what he should’ve done instead what he did

During Hero Training when he’d hear you cheer for Todoroki, he knew he was never going to get a sincere apology

He knew he was never going to hear you cheer like you cheered Todoroki on

He knew he was never going to get the attention he wanted when he saw your arms linked with your group of friends during graduation as you walked off.

He knew he was going to never fill the void he thought he long forgot even after how many years of highschool he graduated, and how many years of hero work

Nothing and no one could make him feel the way you used to.

He noticed when you leaned out of his touch

Or the small unimpressed looks you’d have when you guys would kiss

And when he would ask you’d wave it off like it was nothing

Even when you surprisingly pushed him off of you as the class was doing movie nights, sitting with space in between

Midoriya noticed every single little thing

Yet when he confronted you about it you waved it off again and left before he could even ask you anything more

So, he decided to do a few things for you just in case he did something wrong and wanted to make it up

Monday

He placed a small gift on your desk. It was a small cat-version of all might in a box. At first you smiled, but then checked the signed name tag, he nearly screamed when you scoffed at it and just tossed it into your bag. He felt his heart clench but payed it no mind. He planned the right time to come in and walked right over to you.

“H-Hey Y/N! Did you like the little gift I bought?”

He could see the clearly fake smile on your face when you nod you head, but quickly dismiss him as you see Kirishima enter the room and walking over to him. Excitedly greeting him. Like he just gave you the gift instead.

Midoriya whimpered and gripped his bag straps. Ignoring how his stomach felt like it flipped.

Tuesday

Midoriya’s almost broke down when he went in to hug you in front of Kirishima and instead you went over and gave the redhead a ‘friendly’ hug.

“Hey Y/N! Are you and Midoryia busy or something?”You shook your head and went on in conversation, blatantly ignoring Midoryia, making him kind of want to throw up lunch. He frowned because, didn’t you guys plan something? Why did you lie?

The only person who actually paid attention was Bakugo, and even he felt a little bad. So he grabbed Kirishima’s collar and pulled Kirishima with him, locking eyes with Midoryia with an unknown expression. Then rolling his eyes and looking off. But Midoryia knew for sure he owed him a favor. He tried grabbing your hand but you pulled away.

“Sorry Izu, I uh...I have to go out for a bit.”

“But weren’t we going to go to the cafe today?”

“I know Izuku but...my friend texted me and there was a change in plans. I’ll see you later though!”

Yet he didn’t see you for the entire evening. He wrote down your conversation in a notebook. Analyzing what he could’ve said wrong. He didn’t even realize frustrated tears smearing the words.

Wednesday

People started to notice the nervous tics Midoryia did when you’d start talking to Kirishima.

“Are you okay Midoryia? Your hand is bleeding. Do you need to head to the nurse?”

“Ah! I-it’s okay Todoroki! It’s nothing, really!”

He didn’t want to leave the room right now, especially with the weird feeiling in his gut when he saw you lean in a little too close to Kirishima made his hand feel numb.

Thursday

Midoriya noticed your small lingering touches and stares on Kirishima during training. He even noticed you were quieter when cheering for him than you were Kirishima.

He noticed you smiled more at his jokes than his

He noted you suddenly liked the things you said you always hated when Kirishima said was into it.

And he kept in mind that evening you barely looked his way. He frowned at the thought and decided to walk over to you. But instead he wanted bawl his eyes out when you made eye contact, and instead of greeting him you started walking forward with Kirishima.

Friday

“I can’t find a single note on what I did so wrong to make you hate me so much.”

You couldn’t even realize the boy in front of you. Blind rage all over his face, fists clenched, and shaking body. All because of you.

You honestly wanted to cry because you were so used to the loving looks he’d always give you to the cold and angry one he had on now. But you knew you didn’t deserve to feel this way. You knew what you did was wrong yet, you can’t get rid of the guilt washing over yourself as you finally locked eyes with him.

“I...I give you so much time and attention. Love...appreciation, patience. So much fucking patientce Y/N. Yet, yet you just throw it away.”

The dead grass crunched under his weight as his knees slightly buckled. The snot and tears now covering a majority of his face as he cried. His sobs sounding louder and louder in the silent evening. He bit his lip as he clenched the part of his shirt over his heart.

“It..it hurts so much, why, why don’t you love me like I love you?”

He clenched his teeth before repeatly beating the same spot on his chest. You looked in horror, then rushed over to get him to stop. He grabs you hand just as you were about to stop him.

He looks at you with such a broken gaze. Puffy eyes, and tears still streaming down his face as his scarred hand holds onto yours. Quivering lip and clenched fist.

“Was I just never enough?”

Your eyes started to fill with tears as you covered your mouth. Shaking your head repeatedly, as words couldn’t leave your mouth.

“I’ve written so many lines of the possibilities of what I could’ve said wrong. Or what I gave you. How I kissed you, how I touched you, Y/N, I-...”

“It’s not that you did anything Izuku! It’s just...I fell in love with someone else and I didn’t know how to end it.”

You looked down in guilt.

“Haha...my prediction was right. I was just never lived up to what you wanted.”

“Izuku I-“

“It’s getting late L/N, let’s go.”

It was a quiet walk back to the dorms.

Aftermath

He just kind of went airplane mode

He wasn’t the same mumble-awkward teen he usually was

But instead he’d mostly stare out the window

Or endlessly write notes

He became engrossed in his studies

Rarely going out, barely talking to anyone, and even not eating cause he felt like it would interrupt his studying

When out on his patrols he’ll try to save anyone and everyone he can by himself.

And when he fails it sends him into a complete spiral

It makes him feel the same way he did that day when you two separated

Like he didn’t do enough so it was all his fault that it ended in this way

Regular panic/anxiety attacks

Bakugo actually leaving him alone and instead checking up on him and making sure he eats (forcibly)

Todoroki, Uraraka, and Iida routinely make sure he was actually going to sleep on time, or getting any at all

It did take him a while to actually get over it

And it totally affected how he looked at future relationships

When he does get with someone everytime he just suffocates them with attention, gifts, and anything he feels he isn’t doing right he’ll do it 110%

So a majority of his early adulthood he spent single- or in short-term relationships

Eventually he stayed single for awhile since he’d always compare them to you

Though he does have days where wish it was different

Wishes it was you next to him when he woke up

Wishes that you would hold his hand when he has a bad day at work

But when he has the bad days where the anxiety, hero work, and pressure gets to him.

He just thinks of the way you used to smile at him.

Eyyy so it was originally gonna be 3 but I realized I made it a little too long. I basically had really shit wifi so that was a part of the small hiatus. But also I was originally gonna be MHA boyos x Twitch Streamer Reader. Buuut Tumblr was cracked and deleted it so. 🧍Also do you want a part 2? Cause if not I’ll make my first fluff HCS for Valentine’s. Requests are open! So go wild

[fockingnice]

@franboos @to-enter-polaris @gucciboner and myself worked on a massive fic recommendation list with all our favourite sobbe fics classed by word count.. enjoy!

one-shots:

< 10k

- hold me close @sincerelysobbe (2,5k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969836

Robbe is stressed because of a test and Sander comforts him.

- You make me feel like I am whole again @nbrook (2,7k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26937070

Robbe is having an awful day. But it ends in the best way possible.

- A Beautiful Night @Lwritings (3,6k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428594

Sander has been friends with the Broerrrs for half a year and Robbe has been desperately crushing on him. A game of Never Have I Ever changes everything.

- Love potion no.9 @thekardemomme (3,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923867

they’re best friends. and potions partners. or: it’s amortentia day.

- Croissants @bruisingknees (3,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22186195

Robbe thinks that maybe the guy working at the bakery has been flirting with him.

- Paper rings @thekardemomme (4k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953645

When Sander’s nose twitches, causing him to make this soft little whimpering sound, Robbe can’t help himself. He leans forward enough to kiss Sander’s forehead again, and then he dots one on each cheek, and then finally on his nose. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispers.

- You’re an angel in disguise (you’re an angel in my eyes) @thekardemomme (4,1k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570142

Robbe is Sander’s guardian angel.

- The sun came up and I was looking at you @allforyoumylove (4,2k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24647095

Robbe and Sander waking up on a quiet Sunday morning in June. Sander is a tease, Robbe is awestruck, and both are hopelessly in love.

- I’ve always wanted a (boy)friend @thekardemomme (4,2k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28496322

before sander, robbe never liked christmas. christmas is sander’s favorite holiday.

- Purple lips (underwater) @dottori (5,3k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371688

it’s a sunny, warm friday at the beginning of march, and sander wants them to go for a swim.

- Day Fifty @beejohnlocked (5,7k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987252

Robbe makes a plan to confess his feelings to Sander on Christmas.

- The blind date bomb @thekardemomme (5,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073711

”He thinks of the gorgeous man in the picture, and he thinks of how Sander said his YouTube is cute, and how Britt—who hardly even knows Robbe—thinks that he and Sander would be a good match.And he decides… Fuck it. One date can’t hurt, right?” or: robbe and sander go on a blind date

- Let's dance @msleviss (6,2k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092550 

Robbe and his friends go to a club to check out Amber’s DJ cousin.

- 12 things I love about you @nbrook (6,3k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636032

Sander can't spend the whole day with Robbe on their anniversary, but he still figures out a way to make him fall in love with him all over again.

- Love me while your wrists are bound @alsjeblieft (6,4k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031636

the cabin trip but with a twist.

- Sun shining from pure desire @skamtrash (6,6k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105727

Sander has been flirting with his student teacher, Robbe for months now who keeps reminding Sander that he's wasting his time but eventually the flirting and chasing wears Robbe down to where he cant deny his attraction to Sander. University TA/Student AU

-  At ease with you @Skamtrash ( 7,7,k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26423596

robbe tells his mom he and his best friend, sander are dating to get her off his back.

He doesn't expect his mom to congratulate them by getting them tickets to join her on a cruise vacation.

Cue a week of pretending to be a couple.

fake relationship to lovers au

- Besotted with your love @Skamtrash (7,7k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288000

sander has a photography project and decides to shoot at the skatepark where robbe is his subject. when he approaches robbe and needs him to fill out the release form, he's absolutely smitten from the start.

sander falling in love with robbe who's deaf.

- Taking pictures of you as the light came through @allforyoumylove (7,9k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533866

Robbe photographs Sander in bed. Things take a steamy turn.

- My midsummer darling @robbesdriesen (8,2k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702017

Robbe goes on a summer week-long retreat to his aunt's quaint, little villa in Genoa. He doesn't know he has a neighbor close by, one that would capture his entire soul.

OR

Robbe and Sander fall in love in a whirlwind summer romance. One that would change their lives forever.

- Afterglow @Skamtrash (9k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28032300

On vacation in a small winter village during the holidays, Robbe meets one of the hotel's employees, Sander.

All it takes is two weeks. 14 days for them to fall for each other.

- Christmas Dreams @sonderthroughthestreets (9,6k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272282

Robbe is stuck with his typical 9-5 job as an HR analyst until a conversation with Sander from IT on their company rooftop makes him reconsider his dreams. In the midst of it all, Adam from Accounting has a massive crush on Robbe and wants to ask him to the Christmas Party, so Sander offers to be his "date" to help him. Christmas fluff and flirting ensues.

> 10k 

- Sander Driesen versus a mistletoe @dottori (10,1k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27976461

it’s not a fair match.

(or, sobbe go on a christmas date, and sander really wants a kiss under the mistletoe.)

- This isn't our first time around @noobishere (10,7k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472953

One moment they are in the kitchen of their shared apartment, the next, they're in this strange but familiar room.

(a.k.a the au in which they accidentally go hopping through multiple universes)

- Our love story is my favorite @robbesdriesen (13k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25459867

a wedding fic for robbe and sander

- It’s an unrequited love @eggsntoast (14,1k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22854661

Sander works part-time at a museum every Sunday. Robbe is a frequent visitor.

- Agents Sliding Down The Chimney @berrevy (14,2k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28428840

The smile that twitches at the corner of Sander's mouth is like the tiniest opening, and Robbe takes that as a challenge. He’s always been good at slipping through small spaces.

“You wanna see a trick?”

Sander sizes him up for a moment, then swivels on his heel to face him fully. “Ok then, magic boy. C’mon.”

(aka a late Christmas fic)

- Come lie with me @allforyoumylove (14,6k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089530 

“When Robbe lifts the blanket and gently tugs on the leg of Sander’s sweatpants, silently inviting him in, Sander doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t hesitate, he just drowsily slips into Robbe’s embrace.”

(or the one where they both have a terrible relationship with sleep but find out that it gets a little better when nestled up against each other)

- Man on a mission @littleliefe (17k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27820564

The agency is under attack but Sander is just thirsty for Robbe. On the other hand, the rest of the agency is more concerned about helping Sander ask Robbe out for dinner.

- life was a willow and it bent right to your wind @nbrook (18k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349892

Sander and Robbe became best friends before Sander made a move and then Robbe went and got himself another boyfriend, leaving him pining. And it’s fine, really, it is. Sander promised himself that he wouldn’t do anything about it for as long as Robbe was happy. But when Robbe’s boyfriend ridicules his love for everything Christmas, he decides to step in to give him the Christmas traditions he deserves himself.

- You're my stars...and everything in between @aurorawinds (19,7k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27862950

A Star-Crossed Lovers, Romeo & Juliet inspired, AU where Robbe and Sander are the sons of Antwerp’s two most rivaling families of tech companies, head over heels in love with one another as they find it more and more difficult each day to hide their relationship from their families. To hide their love.

- Lovers never lose @dottori (24k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532636

twelve-ish kisses robbe and sander share at the trip to ardennes (and afterwards).

multi-chaptered:

5k - 20k

- In the middle of the night @Lwritings (complete | 9,3k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24133477/chapters/58105945

The Broerrrs go on holiday for a week to London. Robbe is very excited for it until there is something wrong in the hotel and he has to share a room with Sander. And not just Sander, no the guy he has been crushing on for 3 months ever since he joined their group. And not just a room, no there is only one bed as well. When it's just the two of them in the night, anything can happen..

- If a June night could talk it would probably boast it invented romance @allforyoumylove (complete | 14,7k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264918/chapters/61250002?view_adult=true

Robbe and Sander are childhood best friends. They’re also secretly in love with each other. Confessions are made under a beech tree on a warm summer evening at the end of June.

- Drie @skamtrash (complete | 15,4k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22547221/chapters/53878474

Robbe stands up and finds the voice calling the name and fucking hell, the guy's well fit. He's only dressed in a black t shirt, black jeans and boots but the tattoos that layer his arms immediately entice him. And that platinum hair,  his actual face,  who looks that good. He gets himself together quickly, "I think Bowie's here."

The au in which Robbe finds a toddler hiding in a clothing rack at a store and ends up falling for his dad

- The way we feel @toskyandbeyond (in the works | currently 17,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26364451/chapters/64213597

It’s always been like that. Robbe and Sander, through thick and thin. There was not a thing they didn’t go through together. Moreover, they couldn’t even imagine living without each other’s presence.

The day they met it was almost like two old souls encountered once again. Like they were meant to find each other.

- The finest of the meadow @allforyoumylove (complete | 18,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009740/chapters/63239776

The universe brings two lonely boys together in a flowering meadow. They fall for each other fast and hard among delicate daisies, warm summer breezes, and shooting stars.

20k - 40k

- Come closer I’ll give you all my love @sonderthroughthestreets (in the works | 22,6k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249196/chapters/66568180

Robbe’s ex is a pain and Sander helps get rid of him. The problem? They’ve been friends for as long as they can remember and some point between the blurred lines, they fall in love.

-  Put your head on my shoulder @Aniloracat (in the works | currently 24,9k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079126/chapters/5795296

Because of some past mistakes and communication issues, Robbe and Sander can't stand each other anymore, until they are "forced" to stay in quarantine alone and face their feelings.

📌 Or the enemies to lovers, roommates, quarantine fanfic nobody asked for 😅

📌 Title based on Paul Anka's song 'Put your head in my shoulder'

- Waiting down at the station @ivy_seas (in the works | currently 25,5k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28995576/chapters/71160429

The world is winter, it’s the inconvenient snowfall on the walk to the six-thirty train, it’s falling for the stranger who happens to take the same train. When to take a risk becomes the same question of when to let go of something you’re not really sure you had in the first place. But maybe the world isn’t so cruel.

—strangers to lovers au

- Wings to Earn @to-enter-polaris (complete | 26,6k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28432749/chapters/69672963

After playing volleyball abroad for two years, Sander comes back home to fix his mistake of leaving in the first place, but Robbe isn't ready to forgive him.

- time may change me, but i can't trace time @abittersweetsong (in the works | currently 30,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27785878/chapters/68021533

“You’re my best friend and I love you.”

It’s a simple admission and it settles gently in Robbe’s soul.

Or Robbe and Sander find each other in every universe, but in this one they're best friends first.

- If You say Run, I'll Run with You @Aniloracat (complete | 32,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25970479/chapters/63133504

Robbe is having a terrible day and a hot, but annoying white-haired photographer that won't stop appearing everywhere is not making it any better. That's it, until sparks fly, and Robbe decides he's found the perfect distraction from his terrible day.

 One-night stand AU that's not meant to be a one-night stand.

- Vrijdag 21:37 @wasteourdaysdreaming (complete | 34,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002403/chapters/52504453

The same party one Friday night in February, told from different perspectives.

- You know i'm always at your shoulder (take your heart out of its holster) @wafflesofdoom (in the works (but can be read separate from each other) | currently 35,2k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979630/chapters/52448740

“I must have been really good, in another universe, to deserve you,” Sander whispered, thumb brushing the line of Robbe’s cheekbone, the pad of his thumb soft against Robbe’s skin.

Robbe simply kissed the inside of Sander’s wrist, shaking his head. “You are good in this universe, too,” he said. “You found me, when I needed you the most.”

learning how to be in a real, actual relationship isn't the easiest thing in the world, and robbe is very new to it all, and he's got a lot to figure out when it comes to being in actual, everyday love with sander. the first six months of a relationship are the best - and they're some of the hardest, too. these are the first six months of robbe and sander's relationship.

- this rough magic @aholynight (complete | 36,4k) 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760975/chapters/51919642

Though he’s a sixth-prefect and the newest member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, Muggleborn Robbe can still hardly believe that he’s made of magic.

Sander is the seventh-year Gryffindor beater whose wild behavior and delinquent reputation precedes him.

Though Robbe desperately wants to believe in the angel-faced boy he sees in front of him—and ignore the rumors of Sander’s devilish behavior—he’s not sure his heart can afford the risk.

But when Sander and Robbe are left in a nearly-empty Hogwarts over the Christmas holiday, avoiding Sander might no longer be an option.

40k - 60k

- The night we met @themoongirl (complete | 42,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189216/chapters/52975012

Robbe Ijzermans has a brain that won't let him sleep, a chest that feels far too heavy and thoughts that never stop.

During his first year of college he meets Sander Driesen. Robbe finds what he never went looking for.

AKA, a college AU.

- Visitations @lucidpantone (complete | 46,1k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537474/chapters/53855452

Does Robbe and Sander's relationship survive into adulthood.

This fic takes place in two simultaneously timelines: the past and the present.

The present occurs in one entire day. Both timelines are completely out of chronological order. Everything is in clips.You can be dropped in at anytime of the day in any timeline. So clip by clip you will need to piece together what happen to Sander & Robbe and why the present looks the way it does and what happened in the past that got them there.

This love story is a journey. So be prepared.

In the words of one of our Even's. It’s a complicated love story between complicated people.

- look into my eyes, ignore the rest @robbesdriesen (complete | 47,4k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26230513/chapters/63842047

a story of how robbe and sander fall in love in front of the camera and behind it (which in their case, the camera isn't needed at all)

- rotten work @aholynight (complete | 50,5k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22239544/chapters/53102809

Robbe is a college freshman whose reckless habits and excessive drinking are starting to look an awful lot like calculated self-destruction—though his loneliness might be the thing that kills him first.

Sander is a visual arts major a few years above Robbe, with a face nobody can forget and a fuck boy reputation he can't seem to shake.

Everybody warns Robbe to stay away from the Sander, unless he wants to get burned. But Robbe's the kind of boy who likes playing with fire.

- just friends @sincerelysobbe (complete | 51k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861626/chapters/68215882

Months ago, after a one-night stand that couldn't stay that way, Robbe and Sander made an agreement—the two of them, no strings attached. But, Sander's feelings for Robbe were strong, to begin with, and they're growing stronger with each passing day—and he knows that he is more in love with Robbe than he should be.

- run and score @robbesdriesen (complete | 59,8k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23372407/chapters/56000917

Robbe Ijzermans is the star goalie of Antwerp U’s football team, naturally blocking shots as if it were his sixth sense. Sander Driesen is their star striker, having an eagle eye for the goal at all times.

Robbe always had a distaste for his bleached-blonde teammate and the annoying way he carried himself, but Robbe can never mask how much he admires him from a distance.

When they finally begin to learn more about each other, there is no going back for either.

With the looming playoffs in jeopardy for their entire team, will Robbe & Sander be able to manage it together? All while falling in love with each other at the same time?

> 60k

- Eastwood liberty @fockinglevendcliche (in the works | currently 69,7k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24250837/chapters/58438588

Eastwood Liberty students had only one mission: to always be on top, at everything, no matter the cost.

It took Robbe just a day to realize that people there only cared about two things: money and power. But that was no surprise to him. What he didn't expect was to be confronted by this group of rich and spoiled boys, who used to always get what they wanted, especially their leader, Sander Driesen.

Sander made the rules, but unfortunately for him, Robbe had never been really good at sticking to them.

- Do i know you? @SrtaPepa (in the works | currently 88k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340514/chapters/55913782

Robbe has lost his memory from the last three years. He doesn’t remember finishing school and start college with Yasmina; he doesn’t remember going to live to the flatshare, or move out to a new place, or being friends with Milan, neither coming out as gay. And the worst of all of this is that Robbe doesn’t remember meeting Sander or that he is, in fact, truly, madly, deeply in love with him.

Hopefully, sometimes feelings are stronger than memories.

- jij verliest @sincerelysobbe (complete | 104,1k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445087/chapters/58986433

For the past three months, Robbe’s life—and what it once was—had been stripped away and rearranged. Now, if anything, his life had become a bit repetitive: homework, stream, ignore Thomas’s Instagram, repeat. But one Friday evening, Robbe meets a hurricane in the form of a platinum-haired tattoo artist who just might show him everything that he’s been missing.

- Remember my name @ijzermans (complete | 106,3k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215371/chapters/58335259

The past few weeks, Robbe has noticed a new guy has attended his high school.

Nobody really seems to care about the strange bleached kid, yet Robbe on the other hand, can't help but feel intrigued by him.

The new guy happens to be Sander, and he's not that easy to connect with. He's quiet, distant, and has a past he'd rather not share.

Or will Robbe make a difference?

- Paint me in trust @themoongirl (complete | 116,2k)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235861/chapters/58395625

“What are you looking for, Robbe?” Sander tilted his head, moving closer.

“A rush.” Robbe whispered, his lips brushing Sander’s.

Robbe Ijzermans has spent the better part of two years chasing the need to feel real again. Though being an adrenaline junkie is hardly a healthy coping mechanism, it’s one of the only things he has left.

Sander Driesen is a vampire with an unspeakable, dreadful past that won't seem to leave him.

When Robbe gets roped into Sander’s life he finds the feeling he has been chasing all along. But Sander's world has a different kind of risk, and it forces them to come face to face with the greatest danger of all. Fear of a life without the other.

[granddaughterogg]

What’s death’s reaction to his s/o referring to him as their husband? Like maybe they go out somewhere and s/o has to introduce death to a friend they ran into in public and the first thing that comes to mind while they’re all frazzled is “Oh! This is my /husband/!”

It was Friday afternoon - the worst possible time for a grocery haul.

You've tried to communicate this to your Nephilim a few times before, but the message bounced off them. The Horsemen were perceptive people, but they've spent most of their lives under very different stars (or sometimes under no stars at all.) Never before had they to fit their undertakings within a 24-hour timetable. The intricate ways in which human society works were also all but lost on them. Repeated explanations that certain stuff has to be done at certain hours probably hacked a few good years off your lifespan.

 Maybe one day they'll finally learn, you thought, slowly and tenderly losing your shit. Until then - your shared home life was a path full of organizational hiccups. Chaos often took over.

Anyway, you lived with four oversized individuals who didn't really have to eat, but they sure enjoyed it - and three of them consumed heaps. This week it just so happened that Strife went MIA (as he often would), Fury was having a Hair Maintenance Day and War really needed some bonding time with his steed. Or something.

Thankfully Death remained the reliable one. He grabbed you, summoned Despair from his pocket dimension (Death really wasn't the man for cars) and off to the supermarket you two went.

What you faced was a typical Friday after hours stampede. Tired, frustrated consumers teemed the aisles, filling their enormous shopping carts, crashing their carts into other people's backsides and running them over other people's feet. The air was stuffy, filled with maniacally upbeat music and high-pitched wailing of children. 

It was sheer hell.

"Let's make this quick", you pleaded into your companion's ashy ear. "I don't know how long I can take it. Can we split the shopping list? I'll grab the groceries, you go get all the cleaning stuff and we'll meet here, okay, love?"

Death nodded, straightened himself to his whole impressive height and stalked away. You watched his wide frame part the sea of busy heads. No matter how thick the crowd, people always seemed to just naturally skip out of Death's way. A sensible instinct. Many heads have turned, the expression on their faces something between dumbfoundedness and awe. You've heard quite a few stifled "Damn!"s.

You reached for packaged rice, smirking. Your man was seven and a half feet tall, his skin the shade of bone, and no, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

You managed to persuade him to leave all his jangly ironmongery at home. That's enough Fitting In for one trip.

Death's dark head finally disappeared behind the shelves and your thoughts refocused on filling the cart. You were picking up some broccoli in the produce aisle when a high-pitched voice uttered your name.

You jumped.

"No way!!!" Something big and bright filled your field of vision. You picked up the dropped broccoli, blinked a few times, and the yellow shape refocused into a head of hair - a shiny lob dyed sunny blonde. Not one hair stuck out of place.

"It really is you!!!" squealed the head in glee. It belonged to a rather attractive woman in big rectangular sunglasses, her lips very finely painted fuchsia pink. She always looked like those ladies portrayed in the so-called ladies' magazines. Thin and poreless, exuding easy confidence that comes from not being broke even once in her whole life.

"Hi, Julianne", you groaned. There was no escaping it now.

"Honey!!! So glad to see you!!" professed the woman, eyeing you shrewdly from head to toe. She probably calculated the price of your whole outfit in her head right now - and the contents of your cart while she was at it. Drawing conclusions. Always have been good with maths. Fucking Julianne.

"I wrote to you on Facebook so many times!!" Multiple exclamation points have been her thing; apparently, this hasn't changed since high school. "Why did you never answer, silly? We had so much fun during our class reunion..."

"Uh, I bet", you murmured. You wouldn't step back within your old school walls even if they paid you. "Sorry for going no contact. I've had a lot on my plate recently, you know -"

"Like what?" the woman tilted her shapely head, her attitude playful, but also slightly accusatory.

It made you angry. 

Remember the Apocalypse, Julianne? Remember when you slipped into non-existence among most of the human race? I bet you don't. I bet you decided to forget this ever happened. Like so many others did. Well, I didn't die, so I can't forget. Someone saved me and I got to traverse many different realms side by side with a Horseman of the fucking Apocalypse. And then he gave his life away, and later got brought back to life by his brother, who is also a Horseman - and we've been living together ever since...

Of course, you didn't say any of that out loud. You stood there, fondling the lush green broccoli in your hands. What even was the point?

"Oh, you know. I got into a relationship..." 

"You did?"

You looked her dead in the eye - blue and suddenly wide under the swanky shades - and could tell that this was a direct hit.

"Well, yeah." You smiled at Julianne. "Those things happen, you know."

"Sure, sure!! But frankly, out of all of us, I'd never suspect you to settle with a man and all..." 

"Excuse me?"

Julianne held at a strand of her perfect, shiny hair and then let go. "You were always quite the feminist after all..."

"What does this have to do with - " you blurted out and stopped mid-sentence because Death emerged from behind the shelves. His arms were full of various cleaning stuff.

"I've got everything from the list", he said. "I've also got at least partially deaf. Are we done here?"

A wide smile upturned the corners of your mouth - this time a genuine one because Julianne looked like a startled fish. She stared at you, then at the ashy, muscular, hulking giant at your side, then back at your beaming face.

Pettiness is the dish of the gods. 

"Death, love, meet Julianne", you said gracefully. "Julianne, this is Death. My husband."

The words slipped out of you on their own.

You tossed him a panicked, beseeching look, but your Nephilim was game. Maybe his eyebrow quivered a little; it happened so fast that Julianne would never notice. She was too busy ogling rocky abs of this man you've settled with.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance", said Death in his most velvety, bordering-on-indecent tone. Julianne just nodded back stiffly, as if submerged in a trance.

You left the supermarket soon after that.

A strange, playful little smile twirled your Horseman's lips while he loaded all the groceries into Despair's saddlebags. Thankfully those operated on the principle of magic, not physics, or the horse's spectral back would break.

"I assume that wasn't a friend." You spent all the way to the parking lot trying not to look him in the face. The words startled you.

"Hell no. She's a bitch."

"Ah." That was his whole answer. Finally, all the groceries have been stuffed into the magic pocket space. Death turned around, clasped his hands to your waist and lifted you onto the saddle. His movements bore such effortless grace. It happened so many times and you still weren't over how inhumanely strong this man is.

He sat right behind you. You clasped both hands on the saddle's horn, discreetly basking in this soothing feeling that being surrounded by Death's powerful physique gave you. 

His torso pressed into your back, his strong thighs almost touching yours. This bliss would never get old.

"You know, I can't help but wonder." Death's deep voice was like a silky needle, injected into your frayed nerves. "Why did you call me this word?"

"It...just felt right", you said, staring at Despair's pointy ears, wreathed with spectral discharge. The horse turned his humongous head as if asking: Can we go now? But your companion wasn't done yet.

"Do you wish for me to take your hand in marriage?"

You almost keeled over.

"Damn, D! Well...I...I don't want to force any more human stuff on you, you know?"

He leaned over; long, black strands of hair grazed your mouth. Death looked you in the face. You'd rather he didn't.

"Do you or do you not?"

"Damn, I do. I'd absolutely love to. But you have to live in this human world with me and you're constantly surrounded by alien stuff and alien customs which don't hold much meaning to you, and that would just be...another one of those things, right?" you murmured, lowering your head.

"I'm surrounded by alien stuff wherever I go", said Death softly. "I don't have a place I'd call home."

"I know! But it's hard!" you admitted. "You're always asking me what is it that I want. But marriage is one of those things that have to be desired by both people equally, or it means nothing..."

You suddenly felt very small and rather sad.

"I don't want you to get entangled in something that you have no use for", you whispered, pinning your eyes to the worn-off leather of the saddle. "Not just for me."

Death didn't answer for a good while. Then his big hand covered yours and squeezed it slightly.

Before you've met him, you always imagined that Death's touch must be freezing cold. That was not true.

"I understand", he said, "and I am grateful for your candour."

He nudged the horse and off you went, both unusually quiet.

[wolfish-trickster]

Show, don't tell

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1 815

Summary: your friends dare you to tell your crush how you feel. But since you're mischievious just like him, you'll do it in your way

Warnings: none i guess (besides my bad grammar, but you already know that) and Loki is slightly ooc

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

When you were a kid you saw a little boy at your favourite playground. He never spoke, he only moved his fingers and hands strangely. When you asked your parent, they said it's called sign language and people who can't hear use it to comunicate.

Later in your life you met a girl in school who was deaf and lonely. You wanted to become her friend so you took few classes and learned sign. You two were always together, best friends till the end of the school. You two stayed in contact after you went your separate ways.

That was the past. Now you had another person in your life who knew sign language: Clint Barton. Actually, you taught him sign when he lost hearing in an accident on a mission. You were friends ever since. He introduced you to the rest of the Avengers and they became your friends as well. You began spending a lot of time in the tower, you slept over sometimes so Tony gave you your own room. It was smaller than the rest of the Avengers' and was practically the attic of the tower, but it was cozy and you liked it.

It was a cloudy friday and you just entered the tower. You and Natasha wanted to hang out (and how better than having a sleepover with movies, nail polish and classic girly thing Nat doesn't get to enjoy in her hero time?)

As you stumbled across the living area you heard voices. Most likely coming from the party deck. Strange, Tony didn't mention any parties.

You walked one floor upstairs and saw Clint, Nat, Steve, Bucky and Thor sitting on couches, a single glass bottle layed on the table. Everyone had their heads turned towards the ceiling. You looked up and saw Peter making a giant web.

He sticked a big spider plushie inside and swung himself down to couches. "Alright, my turn."

"What are guys doing?" you sat down next to Thor.

"Playing truth or dare of course," Peter explained as he spinned the bottle.

"We are teching Thor what people do to embarass eachother," Natasha chuckled as she was showing you her pigtails and childish make up.

"Can I join?" you asked.

"Sure, who knows, maybe it will land on you."

The bottle stopped right as Nat finished the sentence. Its openening pointing to Clint.

"Alright mister Barton, truth or dare?" Peter asked.

"For the last time kid, just Clint. Truth, I already picked dare twice. Let's hear your question."

"Alright, ummmm," Peter held his chin inbetween his fingers, thinking. He snapped. "What happened in Budapest?"

Clint and Natasha looked at eachother smirking. This will take a while.

~

After few more rounds the bottle finally pointed to you. Your heart pounded with excitement and fear at the same time.

"So," Steve sat a little straighter, "truth or dare?"

"Uhm...... I'm a big girl, dare!"

"Okay then, I dare you to-"

"How in the nine did that web get there?"

All of you turned to the entrance hall. Loki stood there, arms crossed, leaning against a wall.

"Uuuuuh a giant spider?" Peter smiled sheepishly trying too hard to be believable.

"We are playing a game to embarrass eachother. Join us. It's way more fun than I expected," Thor invited Loki.

Loki shook his head. "I have no interest in games today. Maybe later I shall join," his eyes locked with yours. He smiled softly and waved at you. "Hello Y/N."

You blushed and waved back. "Hi Loki."

The younger prince then turned, walked to Tony's stash of alcohol and found himself a glass.

You smiled to yourself. He ignored everyone in the room and said 'hello' to you. Only you. It felt good being noticed.

You felt stares on yourself. Everyone looking at you. Clint smirked and whispered something to Steve. Both of them smirked (almost mischeviously) as they leaned against the back of the couch.

Steve licked his lips. "I dare you to tell Loki you have a crush on him."

"What? No, no way. I change my mind, I want truth."

"I may be too old for this but even I know that's not how this game works, doll," Bucky chuckled at your poor attempt to get yourself out of the dare.

"But- I can't do that, I mean.... I like him, really but not like-," you noticed Natasha raising an eyebrow at you, "-that. Oh gosh, is it obvious?" you asked as you hid your burning face in your hands.

A loud and clear 'yes' was said in unison. You groaned and pulled your knees towards your chest hiding you even more. "This is bad guys. I can't tell him."

"A dare is a dare, you have to."

"But I can't! I can be glad a god, and a bookworm one, considers me his friend. With admitting my true feelings to him I risk looosing him for good!"

Thor huffed. "Loki is not mean. Well, not THAT mean at least. Besides, worse could have happened. Like that one time he and this maiden-"

"We are NOT discussing his previous love life infront of her!" Natasha interrupted Thor's story.

As they started to argue Clint smiled at you and started signing: *I may be deaf, but I'm not blind. I can see it in his eyes. He likes you and I doubt he will reject you. There is something pure between you two, would be a shame if not explored and deepened. * he winked at you as he signed the word "deepened".

His encouraging words helped you sooth your anxiety. He was right. There is something between you, you just aren't sure if that something is romantic.

You took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going."

You smirked secretely when all they could see was your back. Oh, you are going to tell him, but in your way.

You found Loki sitting at a bar, book on the table, a glass of wine in his hand. You sat on a chair next to him and tapped his shoulder. "I thought you don't drink," you gestured at his drink.

He chuckled. "Just because I can't get drunk from midgardian alcohol doesn't mean I can't enjoy their taste. Do you want some?" he held out his glass to you.

You put a hand on his own and pushed the glass away. "No, thank you."

You heard a cough behind your back. Those bastards must be watching. Time to confess.

"Actually, Loki I came here because I got a dare."

"And what is that?"

You cracked your knuckles and signed out: *I love you Loki*

You made sure it was visible enough for the audience behind you. From the sound of facepalms and groans, they saw it crystal clear.

Loki on the other hand was completely confused. "Eeeh, they dared you to move your hands in my presence? How is that embarrassing? They clearly never played a REAL embarrassing game."

You shrugged. "A dare is a dare. I did it, now it's my turn. Want to help with my revenge?" you tried doing his signature smirk.

He grinned. "I would love to, my dear."

~

Few days passed since you 'confessed' your feelings to Loki.

Nothing changed between you two, he was still polite and charming as ever and you were comfortable in your role of a friend.

Now when you think of it, he began touching you more, not in a creepy way. He also started to make you cups of tea or hot chocolate whenever you visited or when he accidentally brusged his hand along your cold one. He let you borrow his books and when you returned them he eagerly asked you about your opinion.

Maybe something has changed. Maybe, just maybe, he started catching feelings for you too.

Your mind wandered to Loki again just as you were unlocking door to your apartment after a long day at work. You sighed, taking your clothes off and planing to sleep until it's time to sleep for real.

A giant bouquet of red roses on your kitchen table surprised you. You jumped as you heard Loki's voice behind you. "I just couldn't come bare handed now, could I?"

"Loki! What are you doing here? How did you get here?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Sorry. I had to see you."

Your heart sped up. "R-really? Well, that's nice but you could've just called, you know?"

"I still have to ask Tony to get me on of those phones. Listen, I.... do you remember that night, when you played truth or dare and you had to move your hands in front of me?"

You smiled at the memory. Everyone was so annoyed you tricked them. Loki would probably be proud of you. If he knew.

"Yes, I do. What about it?"

"Well, uh- could you do it again?" he asked with, what was it? Shyness in his voice?

"Oh, okay," you said and your hands and fingers spelled out your confession once more.

Loki smiled at you softly. He raised his hands and started signing *I love you too Y/N, I have for a long time. Can we, perhaps, be in a relationship? * he dropped his hands and looked at you hopefully.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He knew how to sign? Since when?

"I've been learning ever since that 'truth or dare' night happened. I wanted to know if your dare wasn't putting a silent curse on me."

You stared up at him. "Did I ask that out loud?"

"No, but you had it written all over your face," he chuckled and tucked stray hair from your eyes. "So, now that we know how the other one feels, can I kiss you?"

As much as you wanted to say yes, you had a different idea. "Even though I enjoy the effort you put into the confession, could you say it out loud? You know, just to be sure," you smirked.

Loki chuckled. "I know I fell in love with the right person. I love you darling."

You stood on your toes and your nose brushed his. "I love you too," you softly pecked his lips. His hands held onto your waist as your own snaked around his neck.

When you two parted he rested his forhead on yours.

"Loki?"

"Yes dear?"

"Can you stay here and cuddle with me? I'm incredibly tired."

You felt his lips on your cheek as he led you towards your couch. "I would love nothing more."

[purplebass]

Hanging On // Thomastair AU

#5 and last Celebratory Fic! It was meant to be something else, but then I didn't finish and I thought this one would be better. You'd probably get the other fic sooner or later, as well as the other requests you may have sent me during these last few months. I had the idea for this Thomastair AU while watching this ambience video. Perhaps you could watch it while you read, use it as bg music. lol. Like the title said, this is a Thomastair coffee shop AU with Eugenia, because I've wanted to write something with her in it. Enjoy!

Characters: Thomas Lightwood, Alastair Carstairs, Eugenia Lightwood Words: 1637

Thomas stared at the early evening crowd of the coffee shop where he worked part-time and sighed. He liked his job, and not just because his parents owned the place and entrusted him and his sister Eugenia to run it. There was something about coffee-making and cake-serving that fascinated him. Perhaps the faces people made once they got their orders or the simple fact of interacting with them, even if they just told him what they wanted. Not everyone was open to conversation, so Thomas mostly observed the clients. He saw a different array of expressions everyday. Relief. Despair. Pain. Joy. There was someone who even cried while sipping their hot chocolate once. It wasn’t the chocolate’s fault.

The coffee shop where Thomas worked was mostly frequented by university students. People around his age who had decided to go on with their studies instead of hunting for a job. He was interested in following some paths, but didn’t feel like enrolling into any institute to pursue his interests, at least for the moment. He was happy making other people feel better for now.

“The coffee won’t make itself, Thomas,” his older sister Eugenia said, serving a brunette at the far end of the table.

He hated when his sister rushed him, but then again he had been distracted for a while. “Coming,” he replied with a sigh, and gave a professor his order.

It was Friday, which meant that it wasn’t just the last day of classes for students, but also their karaoke night. It wouldn’t start until eight, and some small groups of people were already tucking their notebooks away and gathering to order their dinners before their tone-deaf singing session at Thomas’ expense. Eugenia might not know that, but Thomas didn’t ask to have the 6pm-10pm shift because he was crazy. She told him that only someone who didn’t value his free time could choose that shift, because people got very excited when they sang karaoke together.

“What is going on?” Eugenia asked, shaking Thomas from his thoughts.

He was staring at the door and he probably hadn’t heard her. “Nothing is going, sister. Nothing,” he repeated, and used that as an excuse to go to the bathroom before rush hour.

He didn’t want to tell his sister that he had been waiting for someone to show up, and that person was late. Well, he didn’t know if he was late, but he was usually there to eat dinner around that hour, and he hadn’t showed up yet. Thomas bit his lip. Perhaps he had a date. An exam. Something that prevented him from coming. He knew he was overthinking. His sister was right, there was something going on, and he needed to take care of it. He should have kept distractions to a minimum while he worked, unless he wanted Eugenia to tell their parents that he wasn’t doing his duty the way they expected him to.

Thomas shook his head, hitting someone along the way because he wasn’t paying attention due to his overthinking. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He was about to gasp, because the person he had bumped into was exactly the one he had been waiting for.

“You should watch where you’re going, giant,” the guy said, locking his ebony colored eyes with Thomas. He was frowning, but then again, what was new? He always frowned. That dark haired man was one of those people who no matter how many coffee drank, they always seemed defeated. As if not even that could help their mood. Perhaps the guy was someone whose coffee made him more nervous. Maybe he was a tea guy. No, he likes black coffee, Thomas. And you know it. It’s not the coffee’s fault if it doesn’t lift his mood.

Thomas wanted to say something, anything to keep the conversation going, but he couldn’t find the words, so the handsome stranger walked away, leaving him there with his heart thumping and two flushed cheeks.

Thomas knew that his heart would thunder in his chest when the stranger would go on stage and sing a song. For whom, he didn’t know, since he was often by himself typing away on his laptop until the shop’s crowd would thin and he would leave. What he did know was that the guy’s voice was amazing, that he couldn’t stop staring whenever he went on stage. Why was nobody listening to him? Tonight, though, while groups of two or more students went on singing random hits and wouldn’t leave the mic to someone who could actually sing, the guy stayed focused on his computer.

“Alright, I’m going home,” Eugenia announced at some point. Good thing he had been waiting for her, otherwise she would have found him staring and he didn’t want to answer any question she might ask. Not yet. “Will you be okay closing the place by yourself?”

Thomas, who had been doing it for weeks, just shrugged. “For the millionth time, Eugenia, yes,” he glanced at the tables, seeing movement in the direction of the area where the guy was sitting.

“Hey, don’t get angry, little brother,” she got closer to him, just as the guy stood up and got the mic from the last improvised singer.

“I’m not angry, just tired,” Thomas said a little bluntly, his eyes already set on the stranger as the song he chose to sing started playing.

“He’s good,” he heard Eugenia whisper to him. “I didn’t think he knew how to sing.”

“Do you know him?” he wondered with interest.

Eugenia raised an eyebrow, already trying to make up the reason why Thomas had asked. “I don’t, personally. But our sister Barbara does. He’s an International Relations student named Alastair, or at least that’s what she told me the last time she was here and he was too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Thomas, for real. Why do you want to know?”

Thomas was thankful that the lights were dimmed, otherwise his sister would have caught his flushed cheeks. “Can’t I be curious? It’s not like I’ve asked you the secret formula for Coke, sister.”

Eugenia nodded with a smirk plastered on her face. “Do you want me to introduce him to you?” she offered, and Thomas stilled.

“What, no,” he said, trying to seem as disinterested as possible.

His sister shrugged, then she walked away. In the meantime they were talking, the guy had already sung his piece and sat back down at his lonely table.

Thomas glanced at his wristwatch. There was still one hour before the place would close, maybe he would sing another song? Nope. He just ate in silence as he checked things on his laptop and occasionally typed other things from a notebook by his side, which was his only companion. The clock soon signaled that it was a little past 10, and after the last group of customers had left, Alastair was the only one left in the room. Had he lost track of time? Because he seemed unbothered. Thomas believed that was the universe giving him a chance to talk to him, but he still waited half an hour before doing that. Silly.

He took one big breath of encouragement and walked to the table. You can do it. “I’m sorry, but we are closing. You must leave.”

Alastair’s hands halted on the keyboard, and he looked up. “For a person so imposing, you have the bad habit of saying sorry too much.”

“What’s wrong with saying sorry?”

“Absolutely nothing. But I’m not sorry for staying here past the service hours,” he replied with what Thomas thought was hostility. “I’m finishing a paper, can’t you wait a little more?”

Thomas frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said again, then bit his lip in frustration. “But I have to close the shop and go home.” What was he doing? Why wasn’t he saying that he didn’t mind if he stayed more? Ah, yes. Embarrassment. But also determination. He didn’t know this person, and even if he liked him, he couldn’t make an exception for anybody. Right?

Alastair started to laugh, and Thomas was puzzled. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh,” Thomas said before the other could say anything.

Alastair’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s the first time I had the guts to talk to you,” he replied, then started packing his things in his black laptop bag.

Thomas started sweating. He didn’t expect it. “Me too,” he said. There was an imperceptible stop in Alastair’s movements, as if he had been caught off guard just like he was.

“I was joking,” he told him, rising from his chair, and Thomas froze. “About finishing the paper, I mean,” he added, and Thomas didn’t hide the relief he felt at the admission. “I just wanted to talk to you. I’ve been wanting to do it for several weeks, Thomas.”

“You know how to sing, Alastair,” Thomas said, wondering how he knew his name. But it was fair, he also knew his name through third parties. He registered Alastair’s shock. “What do you say we meet tomorrow after my shift and we talk more?”

“I thought you would never ask,” he answered.

“I thought you would never agree,” he countered.

If only I talked to him sooner, Thomas thought, as he and Alastair exited the coffee shop. It was okay, the ice was broken now. He finally had the guts to interact with him, and he thought that the evening shift was totally worth it, unlike what Eugenia may think.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucinda @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca @autumnangel20 @cordelia-cardale @lucie-blackthorns @thephcastcouldsteponme-please

[221castiel]

If You Love Me, Don’t Let Go

Read it on AO3 Here!

She was two years old when her "dad" Dean Winchester had been sentenced to twenty five years in prison.

Now, fifteen years later, he's being released early and Claire's only sure of one thing; she doesn't want him back.

Everything seemed to fall back into place the moment he’d stepped through the front door. His chair in the morning was used as if it had never been empty, his coats hung on the hangers alongside their own and his car soon found its place in their driveway as if it had always parked there. It was like he’d never left, or at least that’s how Claire should have felt, but sitting at the kitchen table watching as Dean made breakfast felt wrong. Not comforting and definitely not familiar.

Everything about the situation was wrong, stiff, awkward, forced. Yet no one else seemed to notice or maybe they just didn’t care, as Cas leant against the kitchen counter watching his boyfriend cook and Jack sat at the other end of the kitchen table flipping through a comic book like the dork he was.

Dean himself stood at their stove saying something to Cas as he made them pancakes. He wore a pair of grey sweat pants and nothing else, letting Claire stare at the burn that covers the majority of his upper back. The burnt skin continued along his right shoulder, and down his right arm just stopping above his elbow. It was an older burn, the skin wrinkled and brighter than the rest of his pale skin, keeping Claire’s attention no matter how many times she tried to look away.

She could ask about it.

Was it part of the reason he’d gone to jail? Did he get it at jail? Were there more? All bitchy questions, but it wasn’t like Claire was above being an occasional bitch.

She opened her mouth, though before she could get the words out Dean was turning her way and her gaze quickly dropped to the plate in front of her. The sounds of footsteps came then from the corner of her eye Claire watched as Dean set a tray of pancakes onto the table.

“Still like blueberry pancakes?” Dean asked as he took the seat on her right, and her dad took the one to her left. Which was incredibly wrong, Cas had always sat on her right, but it wasn’t like Dean cared about what they normally did.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. Dean had a smile across his face, one that wasn’t completely easy, more cautious as if he was trying to bargain for her trust.

“No,” Claire replied, hoping he could hear the annoyance in her tone. “Not since I was five.”

“Well I do!” Jack cut in. Dean’s features dropped for a second, in maybe even defeat before he was once again smiling and had turned his head to talk to jack.

Leave it to her brother to try to play peacekeeper, even though just last week they’d both agreed they weren’t happy about Dean returning.

Fucking traiter.

She gave her brother a quick glare before pushing her chair back with a more than satisfying screech, and walked across the kitchen to grab cereal. The conversations continued on behind her as she grabbed a bowl and filled it with milk and cereal, a blur of words that she didn’t really care about or want to hear.

It was too early for conversations, especially with a stranger that she was supposed to just pretend was part of her family. She preferred when it was just her and Jack in the morning, Cas working one of the hospitals morning shifts or still asleep after a late shift. When it was quiet, and more important when it was without Dean.

She grabbed a spoon and shoved a mouth full of cheerios into her mouth before she went back to her spot at the table.

“Claire,” Cas said as she sat down. She hummed in response. “Dean has offered to give you a ride to school today.”

She glanced to Dean before looking back to her dad. “I’m fine taking the bus,” Claire said, “I’m sure he’s busy.”

“He offered.”

“I like the bus.” She liked walking the forty minutes if it meant not sitting in a car with Dean.

“I can give you a ride,” Dean insisted. Clenching her teeth Claire glared at the other man, “it isn’t that big of a deal, I’ve gotta stop at the courthouse anyway,” he continued.

“Schools in the other direction,” Claire argued through clenched teeth. Dean’s gaze darted to Cas as if looking for some kind of helping and Claire couldn't help but be proud of herself. Causing Dean to be speechless, to lose his easy smile for not once but the second time that morning.

“I have a math test today!” Jack suddenly declared, causing everyone to look over. Claire rolled her eyes before looking back to her bowl of cereal and poking at the cheerios floating in the milk.

“Shit” Dean hummed through a mouthful of food, because apparently eating with your mouth closed was too hard of a concept “that sucks.”

“I like math.”

Dean raised an eyebrow looking to Cas, “what the hell did you do to him.”

Claire’s grip around her spoon tightened. Other than actually raise him, and work every hour the hospital offered him to pay the bills, and make sure they were both happy and nopt fukcing leave. The list of things her dad did was endless.

“Math’s interesting,” Jack insisted. “As long as you do it right the numbers just work!”

“And what about you?” Dean asked, Claire raising her eyebrow as he looked towards her, “got any weird interests?”

Claire pressed her lips together. How long would it take for him to realize that she didn’t want to talk, or that she didn’t even like him. A week? A month? She didn’t think she could handle another hour of his constant talking.

“We should get ready,” Claire said, looking back to Jack, “or we’ll miss the bus.”

Without waiting for an answer Claire stood grabbing her bowl and carrying it to the sink, the sound of Jack’s chair filling the silent kitchen. She then walked quickly to the kitchen door only stopping at the sound of Cas’ voice.

“Claire, are you sure you wouldn’t like a ride?”

Chewing at her lip Claire looked back meeting her dad's gaze. His expression sat emotionless, though Claire could hear in his tone how much he wanted her to take it. He wanted her to pretend as if the first fifteen years of her life didn’t happen, as if they were a family, as if Dean hadn’t left them.

Maybe Cas could forgive him, but she couldn’t.

“Yah,” Claire replied, biting her lip harder as Cas’s expression dropped just for a second. “Thanks though.”

She turned away not waiting for a response and instead walked into the hallway Jack on her heels. “I wanted a ride,” he mumbled as they turned up the staircases, and Claire rolled her eyes. Of course he wanted a ride, he also wanted them all to be happy and be a family and sing songs or some kind of buillshit like that.

“Stop whining,” Claire mumbled, “the bus won’t kill you.”

Dean must be deaf, or stupid, because despite every argument she’d made over breakfast he’s waiting for her at the end of the school today. The impala unmistakable in the row of other parents' cars with Dean sat in the drivers seat waving her over.

Maybe she could get hit on her way.

She isn’t so lucky and manages to walk to the passenger door without any fatal injuries. She pulled it open with as much force as she could muster before slamming it shut with a satisfying noise, hopefully causing some kind of damage. A small dent or even a scratch, anything to mess up the untouched paint.

“Coffee,” Dean offered as Claire turned to grab her seatbelt.

She glanced at the to go cup in his hand then to his face, that easy, incredibly punch smile still across his lips. Was giving up so hard, could he not just be thankful that Jack liked him (not like that was hard).

Pressing her lips together she looked down to the seatbelt and buckled it into place. “I don’t like coffee.”

Tuesday was the same. The impala was parked in the row of parents, as if he was their parent, and when Claire sat down into the passenger seat Dean offered her another to go cup. Hot chocolate, he said, and with the same clipped tone Claire mumbled an ‘I don’t like hot chocolate.’

Wednesday he offered tea, and on Thursday Claire knew he must have talked to Cas. When she took her spot in the passenger seat she immediately recognized the blue to go cup from her favourite coffee shop -a coffee shop twenty minutes past the school-

“Caffe Mocha with almond milk”, Dean said as he offered her the drink.

Claire clenched her jaw, twisting her body to look out the passenger window. There was nothing to look at there, only the school's parking lot but anything was better than Dean. “I’m fine.”

On Friday when Claire stepped out of the high school the impala was nowhere in sight.

No matter what her feelings were towards Dean it was impossible to ignore just how much Cas loved him. Long lasting looks that left Claire rolling her eyes, quick kisses, always touching in some way or another. He smiled constantly, and it was hard to even imagine that this Cas was the same dad she’d grown up with. Always optimistic, always loving but tired from work and raising kids. Worn down from life.

Why hadn’t Dean seen that Castiel?

Why couldn’t Dean have seen all the pain he’d caused?

Claire’s grip around her pencil tightened, jaw tense as she grinded her teeth together. It was all she seemed to do the past week, clench her jaw push down the bubbling frustration, hope that Dean would just fucking understand that he wasn’t fucking wanted.

She forced a breath through her nose glaring down to her math homework before she looked out their living room window. The neighborhood was quiet for a Saturday morning, not a person in sight other than Dean and Cas, who were out cleaning the impala. Both drenched head to toe, covered in bubbles, but smiling, laughing as in between spraying the car they’d spray one another.

Happy. Castiel was so incredibly happy, and it only made everything more frustrating.

After glaring at the two men Claire looked back to her homework, scratching her pencil across the page in dark lines that only partially satisfied her frustrations. It was better than nothing.

She worked slowly down the page, keeping her head down as she solved each equation until the sound of the front door opening broke the silence and she looked up.

“Having fun?” Claire asked as Cas, still dripping wet, stepped into the living room.

Cas smiled, “I am.”

Well that made one of them.

Claire looked back down to her homework, clenching her jaw as her gaze wandered across the page. None of it made sense, of course none of it made sense it was math, but it was still better than looking at her dad. At her genuinely happy dad, who was happy because of Dean.

The sound of Cas’s footsteps came, then paused. “Somethings wrong?” He said.

“No,” Claire mumbled.

“Did something happen at school?”

“No,” she insisted, “I’m fine.”

She shoved her pencils back into their case, then closed her binder before pushing the desk chair back in a loud screech that definitely scratched the wood floors. She’d apologize for that later, for now she needed to be away. Away from Cas, and away from fucking Dean. Away from the pretend.

They weren’t a family.

Families didn’t fucking leave each other.

“Claire,” Cas whispered as she walked past him, stopping her in her tracks. “You’re able to talk to me.”

“But I’m not,” she snapped, turning towards him. “You chose him, after everything that fucking happened, after everything that he fucking did, you still chose him,” the bubble of emotion burst through her chest as her words became more frantic, fists clenched at her sides. “Why aren’t you angry at him?”

Cas tilted his head, his gaze holding Claire’s, filled with so much concern it made her sick. “You want me to be angry at Dean?”

“You should be!” Claire cried. Was it that crazy of a concept? “He left you with two kids, he left you and you're just letting him back into our life!”

“Claire,” Cas said so gently it made Claire want to scream. He stepped closer and she stepped back, keeping the same space between them despite the pained look that crossed her dad's face. “Dean- he didn’t want to leave, I understand-“

“No you don’t understand shit,” Claire spat, “he knew he had a family, he knew that,” her voice shook, and she inhaled sharply, “and he still- you just let him come back, after everything.”

“It wasn’t his choice.”

“Yes it was!” Claire screamed, “you don’t just get arrested, you did shitty things and be a shitty person, and-“ She clenched her jaw, holding her dad’s gaze. “Why are you choosing his side?”

“There are no sides,” Cas replied slowly, “and Dean, he isn’t a bad person”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Claire mumbled.

Cas pressed his lips together, eyebrows furrowing as Claire stared back. They’re was more she wanted to say, a mix of insults and swears that she’d been holding back over the week yet they stayed stuck on her lips. Her voice was suddenly gone as Cas stared at her, not carrying to hide the hurt that was clear across his face, and yah Claire knew it was her who caused it. Her words. Her actions. Her feelings, but it was Dean who’d caused all that.

Why couldn’t her dad see that?

“I’m going to my room,” Claire finally mumbled.

She turned away, no longer able to hold her dad’s gaze and instead walked out of the living room, ignoring Cas as he called for her to wait. Her footsteps were heavy as she stomped up the staircase, and she made sure to slam her door before she fell across her bed and squeezed her eyes shut.

A knock came though she didn’t move instead choking down a breath as another soon followed.

“Claire?” Cas asked softly, voice muffled through the door. “Could we please talk?”

Claire buried her face into her pillow, forcing another breath. No, they couldn’t, not now, after all the anger had faded leaving a throbbing pain in her chest.

She knew how the conversation would go, exactly the same as every other time. Cas would swear Dean was a good person, Claire would try not roll her eyes and agree to make her dad happy, then they’d pretend they were a happy family until she couldn’t handle it again.

She couldn’t do it.

Not after years of being alone.

At the sound of Cas’s disappearing footsteps Claire opened her eyes staring quietly at the photo on her bedside table. It was of the four of them Cas holding Jack who was only a few months old while she herself at only two was sat on Dean's shoulders with a wide smile across her face.

She’d always hated that photo, yet had never had the heart to replace it.

Now she wished she had.

She isn’t sure whether Cas told Dean or not about their fight, and she wasn’t sure which she prefered, but when she finally leaves her room that night for dinner, nothing seems to change. Dean still attempts to coax conversation out of her while Jack plays moderatore, making sure nothing becomes too tense. Even at the end of the night when it’s only her and her dad left doing the dishes Cas doesn't mention anything.

Sunday is the same, and when Monday comes they fall back into the same annoying routine of Dean picking them up, trying to win Claire over with drinks and baking. He really seemed to think she was that easy, that she’d let things slide like the rest of her family.

By Thursday Claire had enough of the awkward car rides, and at the end of the day found Jack outside of his locker and dragged him out the back entrance, rather than the front.

“Claire!” Jack cried as she dragged him across the teachers parking lot by his wrist. His footsteps were uneven trying to keep up with her long strides and his backpack dangled from her one shoulder yet Claire didn’t stop. She needed to put as much distance as she could between her and that stupid impala, she couldn’t spend another second listening to blaring music or he rattling of the air conditioning.

“Claire!” Jack insisted. “Please! Stop!” He gave a harsh tug pulling his wrist from Claire’s grip and causing her to stop and turn around meeting her brother’s glare. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Claire snapped, clenching her jaw. “I- just- I thought we could see grandpa.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, and yah Claire knew it wasn’t the best lie but Jack was gullible and like hell she’d tell him the truth. He'd just be pissed that she was tearing their family apart, or some dramatic statement like that.

“You want to go see grandpa?” Jack repeated and Claire nodded. “Dean could drive us.”

“Why? Your legs don’t work?”

“They work!”

“Then you can walk”

Jack gave her a glare but followed her as they walked across the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. They walked shoulder to shoulder, a silence hanging around them as they made their way down the familiar neighborhood, past the houses Claire had long ago memorized and to Chuck’s.

“Claire?” Jack asked, as they turned off the street and into an alley. “Is everything okay?”

At the softness in his voice Claire glanced to her brother, meeting his gaze for a second before she’d looked forward again. “I’m fine,” she replied, clenching her jaw.

“Are you sure?”

Could Jack not take a hint? She didn’t want to talk about it. “Yes.”

“You don’t seem okay.”

He really couldn’t take a hint.

Claire forced a breath through her nose, glaring at the parked car ahead of them, as if it would solve her problems. It was either that or Jack. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” Jack replied, “you’ve just been kind of…”

“A bitch?”

“I was going to say a jerk,” Jack whispered, “but yah.”

She scrunched her nose looking down to her sneakers before looking back to the car ahead of them. “I don’t like Dean,” she finally said, the words sounding even harsher than they had in her head.

Jack frowned, looking to her, though she kept looking forward. “Why not?”

Claire shrugged. “He left us, he hurt dad, and I just-“ she took a slow breath. The words weren’t sassy to say, there were too many thoughts, too many reasons, and too many of them she wasn’t willing to say out loud.

He left Jack.

He left Cas

He left her.

And she was terrified he’d do it again.

“I don’t think he should just get to walk back into our lives as if nothing happened,” Claire finally said.

“I think you should give him a chance,” Jack replied softly, a comment Claire decided to ignore and instead look back to her feet, letting the silence once again fall between them. It thankfully stayed that way for the rest of the walk, until they reached Chuck’s house and made their way up the back porch.

They were greeted with a wide smile and a tight hug each that Claire may have held onto a bit longer than normal, before Chuck offered tea and they both accepted. They then made they’re way into the living where Jack took a seat on the one couch while Claire remained standing instead studying the photos that lined the fireplace.

Most were of their family, her aunts and uncles with her cousins though it’s the center one that she stared at. One at her aunt Anna’s wedding maybe twenty or so years ago. It was of all her aunt’s uncles at the beach, arms slung over one another’s shoulders with Anna and her husband standing in the center. At one end Dean and Cas stood together, younger but definitely them, Cas laughing at something someone had said, well Dean grinned at Cas.

Even in photos it was impossible to ignore how much he loved her dad.

“And how are my favourite grandkids?” Chuck hummed his footsteps filling the silent room followed but the sound of cups being placed onto the table. The sound of her grandfather sitting down came though Claire didn’t turn instead continuing to study the photo.

“I’m good,” Jack said as the sound of the teapot being poured came, “soccer starts next week, and I’m doing this really cool project in socials class where we get to plan a city.”

“And what about you Claire?”

She shrugged, “I’m fine.”

When no one continued speaking she turned around, just getting a glimpse of the questioning look her grandpa gave Jack. “Claire is uh-“ Jack began causing Claire to glare at him. God help her brother if he decided to keep speaking, “her and Dean aren’t getting along.” She was going to kill him.

Chuck stopped pouring the tea, his gaze immediately looking up. “Dean’s been released,” he said in a clipped tone, placing the teapot back down before he picked up his own cup. “I forgot that was happening.”

Claire pressed her lips together, her gaze darting over her grandfather's features which sat in an unreadable expression, though definitely not a pleased one. “You don’t like him?” She finally decided.

“I-“ Chuck looked down to his cup, seeming unable to decide whether he should tell the truth or not. God Claire hoped he would. “I’ve never been fond of him,” Chuck finally said.

“Why?”

“Growing up he had… problems, getting into fights, skipping school, stealing, he was always looking for attention,” Chuck said. He brought the cup to his lips, taking a small sip before continuing. “I didn’t want Castiel around that, he was a nice kid and too trusting for his own good, but your father is incredibly stubborn and wouldn’t listen to me. I don’t know how many times I’d found Dean climbing through his bedroom window.”

Claire pressed her lips together, waiting for Chuck to say more as he leant forward and grabbed the spoon from the sugar bowl. Each movement was far too slow, getting a small spoonful of sugar, pouring it into his cup, stirring it in, testing the drink, then adding more.

“I’d assumed,” Chuck finally continued leaning back into the couch, “after the most recent arrest Castiel would come to his senses but-“ he shrugged, “here we are.”

“Most recent arrest?” Claire asked.

Chuck hummed, “there are a handful of times when he was a teenager, and I believe three or four as an adult.”

Electricity seemed to buzz under her skin, the information blurring together. It was more than she’d ever heard about Dean from anyone. She’d learned from a young age not to talk to her father about him, it only ever made Cas sad, and even when he was willing to talk about a Dean it was rarely ever much more than how much Dean loved them. It was certainly never about his arrest, or apprenalty multiple arrests.

It was addicting. She wanted to know more, here everything her father had refused to tell her. Everything that confirmed her suspicions. Dean shouldn’t be released, he shouldn’t be in their house, and he definitely shouldn’t be pretending to be a part of their family.

Claire took a seat next to Jack, continuing to stare at her grandfather who sat on the couch across from them. “Do you know why he got arrested?”

“Claire,” Jack whispered, voice uncertain, though she only ignored him.

“Your father never told me the full story,” Chuck replied, “I believe a fight may have been part of it, though anything is possible.”

Claire pressed her lips together. She had more questions, endless questions though they’d all become a blur, unsure which ones were more important than others, or which ones Chuck would refuse to answer.

Her lips parted and Jack shifted, “please stop,” he whispered.

“What did dad say about it?”

Chuck lowered his cup though before he could reply Jack stood and without a word walked out of the room.

The walk home is quiet, Jack always a few steps ahead refusing to look at her, and maybe she should care but she didn’t. Hell she was thankful for the space for the silence that allowed her to replay everything Chuck had told her. She’d been right, or at least the unease she’d felt around Dean was right.

There was a reason she couldn’t trust him.

So why couldn’t her dad see that?

When they get home still without a word Jack goes to his room, leaving Claire to quietly walk through the house and into the kitchen. She opened the kitchen cupboard looking for something to eat until the sound of footsteps came causing her to to turn her head as Dean walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he greeted offering a smile that she didn’t return.

“Hey,” Claire replied. She didn’t move as Dean opened the fridge and took out a beer. “Do you know where dad is?”

“Hospital called,” he replied, “he’ll be working till seven.” Claire grit her teeth as Dean took a seat at the kitchen, propping his feet onto the other chair. Every action had been so casual, as if he’d been living in the house for years rather than two weeks.

“What about you?” Dean asked, twisting the cap off his bottle, Claire only raised an eyebrow. “Where were you and the kid at?”

“Our Grandpas,” she replied in a clipped tone.

Dean frowned, causing Claire to clench her fists. “Chucks?” He asked as if it was the craziest thing in the world.

“Yah,” Claire replied, “is there a problem with that?”

“No, just never pictured him as a number one grandpa,” Dean shrugged, “I always saw him as more of a grandpa joe type.”

Claire clenched her jaw, teeth grinding together as she looked back to the open cupboard. “Well at least he helped raise me,” she muttered.

“What.”

She turned around meeting Dean’s gaze, every inch of her skin alive with energy, emotion bubbling through her chest as she clenched her fists tighter. “I said,” she began voice harsh, and slow, “atleast he helped fucking raise me.”

Dean’s eyes widened and Claire didn’t look away, holding his gaze with her jaw clenched and chin tilted up. She hoped it hurt. She wanted it to hurt so bad.

Claire sucked in a harsh breath, and before Dean could reply she walked out of the kitchen with long strides. Her eyes burned as she wiped at them, the pain once again settling in her chest as she rushed up the staircase and into her room.

Much to her relief, Dean never followed

She doesn’t come out of her room for dinner, or when her dad comes home, or when her phone dies and the charger’s still in Jack’s room from when he’d stolen it the day before. She can’t see Dean, especially not with Cas around, and so it isn’t until eleven when she’s sure everyone will be at least in their rooms that she slides out of her own quietly walking the hallway she’s stopped by the sound of Dean and Cas’s voice.

“I just- there’s nothing I can do,” Dean said, his voice getting louder the closer Claire got to their bedroom. The door was just cracked open letting a sliver of light fall through and for Claire to see them, Dean sat on the edge of their bed while Cas stood between his legs still dressed in his nursing scrubs. “She doesn’t want me around.”

Cas tilted his head.. “Why would you think that?”

“Have you been paying attention?” For once Claire had to agree with him.

Cas sighed, “Claire is stubborn.” He raised a hand lacing his fingers through Dean’s, “But she will come around, she just needs time.”

“I don’t think time’s going to do shit.”

“Claire is hurt,” Cas replied, “things weren’t always always easy. we didn’t always have the money, and I didn’t always have the time to be there for them.”

Dean raised the hand he had laced with Cas’s and pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’s hand. “I’m so sorry angel,” Dean whispered the words filled with so much pain Claire sucked in a breath. “For everything.”

“Dean, it was never your fault, a systems failure isn’t your fault.”

Silence fell and suddenly her heart beat was too loud, her breathing was too loud, everything was too loud as she watched Dean and her Dad stare at one another. Not a word spoken yet Claire can’t help but feel as if she’s missed a million different conversations, words said that only they would understand.

Dean raised a hand resting it against the side of Cas’ face as he continued to stare at the other. Slowly Cas leant down pressing a kiss to Dean’s lips.

“I didn’t know Chuck was such a good grandpa,” Dean teased as they pulled away, “thought he’d be more of the grandpa joe type.”

Claire rolled her eyes, it wasn’t funny the first time, what would make it funny the second?

Cas tilted his head either not thinking it’s funny or maybe just not getting it. Claire was going with the first option, cause it wasn’t funny. “He looked after them often when they were children and I had worked, though I am amazed at how well he did with them,” Cas replied, “he’d even let them have candy.”

“Shit really?”

A smile tugged at Cas’s lips, “I believe it’s unfair, he believes it was good parenting.”

“It’s unfair,” Dean replied. He looked down to their joined hands, a smile still across his voice though his tone came out more distant. “What about my dad?”

Cas pressed his lips together, and Claire leant closer to the door. The tension that had settled in the room was clear, whatever playful atmosphere that he'd been there suddenly gone, replaced with something more serious, more personal.

She should leave. Get a phone charger like she’d meant to or just go back to her room. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“John has called twice,” Cas finally replied, voice steady, maybe even careful, “once when they were children, and a second time a year or two ago. He’d wanted to meet them but I said no.”

“Good,” Dean mumbled, “don’t let that son of a bitch near them.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Dean shook his head, and Claire leant in a little closer, holding her breath as she watched, trying to hear whatever would come next. Maybe some kind of explanation, something that would answer one of the million questions she had, or at least feed her growing curiosity, though it seemed neither of them wanted to continue the conversation as Cas stepped away from Dean and out of Claire’s view.

“You did a good job,” Dean said as the sound of a drawer being opened came. “Jack- the kids amazing, and Claire,” he paused, and Claire could almost hear every possibility racing through his mind. Annoying. Rude. How would he say it nicely in front of her dad? “She’s beautiful.”

The statement comes like a sucker punch.

“I know,” Cas replied, walking back to his spot in front of Dean, now in his pajamas. An old AC/DC shirt and his bee pajamas pants that Claire had bought him as a joke. “She reminds me of you.”

She scrunched her nose, that had to be a joke, a cruel joke.

“She’s much better than I ever was,” Dean replied, and yah Claire isn’t perfect she knew that but for a second time that night Dean was right. “Have you seen the painting she’s working on,” Dean continued, “She has Leonardo looking like some amateur, and her grades! She’s talented as hell and some kind of genius- her music tastes shit but we’ll work on that.”

Claire bit at her lip, her stomach uneasy from all the praise, as Cas pulled Dean into a hug. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to be there,” Cas whispered softly.

Dean’s expression was full of pain, his eyes staring up to the ceiling, looking exhausted if not completely dragged, despite that his voice came out steady. “Remember how much she’d draw?” Dean whispered, “I swear the moment she could grab a pen she never stopped. They were so shitty.”

“You hung everyone on the fridge.”

“And she’d sign them bear.”

“That's because you made her believe her name was bear.” Cas replied.

A small smile tugged at Dean’s lips, though it was still nothing like the smiles Claire normally saw across his face. “Claire Bear was a cute name.” He whispered

“It was alright.”

Dean rubbed a hand at his eyes as he continued to look to the ceiling. “I fucked up,” He whispered and Claire stepped back. She couldn’t watch anymore, not with the weight of emotion that crushed her chest.

Her feet moved forward, as she forced herself to take a breath. The conversation repeated in her head as she walked down the staircase, once then twice, making her more sick each time. The pain in Dean’s voice, the pain across his face, his kind words, the adoration.

Why couldn’t he just hate her.

It’d be so much easier if he’d just hate her

Claire hated feelings. She always had and in the days after Dean and Cas’s conversation she only hated them more.

Being angry at Dean had been simple, she knew her feelings, she knew why she had those feelings. They’d always burned from the inside out, an energy that tore through her very veins, but an understandable energy. Now there was something else, a small pain in her chest that left her awake at night. That left her gasping for breath and wishing she’d simply die.

Maybe it was fear.

A small part of her wanting to let Dean in but that was far too aware of the pain that had caused the first time.

Thh feelings, the blur of anger and fear, all laced with confusion. She hated it, and she hated Dean for causing it.

“I can’t believe you still have those,” Dean grumbled as they walked along the forest path, Claire’s gaze darting to her fathers swim shorts. They were a bright obnoxiously blue colour, covered in yellow rubber ducks, a pair he’d owned, and she’d hated for as long as she could remember.

“I like them,” Cas replied and Claire was pretty sure the rubber ducks would like to be put out of their misery.

“Doesn’t stop them from being ugly as hell,” Dean called over his shoulder.

As they stepped out of the forest the scenery opened up onto a cliff side, the sound of crashing water filling the silence.

It’d been just over a month since Dean had been released and between school, Cas’s work, and Dean dealing with the court house or whatever he did, other than having meals together they hadn’t done anything as a family. Claire hadn’t minded, hell she preferred it that way, though apparently no one else agreed.

Claire laid her towel next to Jack’s, a few feet away from the cliff's edge and sat down, watching as her brother walked to the edge and peered down to the water below. “Jump!” Claire called.

“Is it safe to?” He asked, looking back to Dean and Cas who were laying out their own towels next to Claire’s.

“Just do it!” Claire replied.

“It’s safe,” Dean reassured. Way to ruin the fun

Jack looked back down to the water, then to them, chewing at his bottom lip. “it’s really high,” he said and Claire couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Bitch.

“There’s a ledge closer to the water,” Cas said, Ashe placed down the cooler they’d brought. “I’ll show you.”

Cas walked over to Jack amd lead him down the side of the cliff, leaving her and Dean alone.

Claire glanced to her right, Dean’s own gaze forward watching the cliffs. He’d taken his shirt off allowing her a glimpse of the burn that covered his right back, as well as another burn on his left shoulder. It was a perfect circle, barely bigger than a quarter, matching the one Claire had seen on the back of his left hand. It even had the same purple tone to it, faded but definitely there.

As gross as she found the scars and burns it was hard not to stare. To study each one anytime Dean wasn’t looking. She’d wanted to ask and maybe a few weeks ago she would have but now, she couldn’t get the words to come out.

From just under the hem of his swim shorts she could see a few more scars. Thin white strips, some no bigger than an inch while others traveled across his whole thigh. Not one overlapped, all parallel to one another and perfectly placed.

Dean turned and Claire immediately looked away, biting at her lip as the guilt tugged at her stomach. “How was Jack's Soccer game?” She asked, keeping her gaze forward despite Dean’ eyes still on her.

He definitely knew she was looking, he had to.

“Awesome,” Dean replied, “yah, Jack he’s- he’s uh.”

“Awful,” Claire offered. She’d been to a handful of his games and she was sure that in every single one Jack had been hit in the face with the ball at least once. He was hands down the worst player on their team, if not the league and yet he absolutely adored it. She’d never understand her brother.

“He’s crap,” Dean agreed. “I thought he’d been messin’ around but he’s just shitty.”

“Yah, I think he might have two left feet.”

“Or’s blind,” Dean said, causing Claire to bite at her lip, stopping the smile that tried to form. “Kinda lucky I’m not coachin’, woulda sucked to bench him.”

Claire raised her eyebrow, “you were going to coach”

“Yah,” Dean replied, “the kid asked me to but you can’t have a criminal record so…” Dean shrugged. His tone was casual as if that really didn’t bother him, though the way his jaw was set and his chin was tilted up, gave him away.

It bothered him. A lot.

“And you were going to bench him?” Claire asked.

“Hey,” Dean said, a smile once again across his lips, “I only coach winners.”

Claire bit her lip harder, stopping herself from laughing. She could picture it easily, Dean in the matching tracksuits that all the coaches wore, overall excited and more passionate than any of the players. He’d be Annoying as hell and Jack would’ve loved it.

She brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, as Cas climbed back onto the cliff's edge, completely dry.

“You didn’t jump in?” Dean yelled, causing Cas to look at them.

Cas tilted his head. “It’s very cold,” he replied.

“What a bitch,” Dean whispered, causing Claire to raise an eyebrow. He stood and walked over to Cas, saying something that Claire couldn’t make out before he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist. Slowly Dean leant down pressing his lips to Cas’s in a slow, incredibly gross kiss.

Claire scrunched her nose. Could they have not done that anywhere else?

Slowly they pulled away, noses still almost brushing as Dean said something else and then picked Cas up by his waist. “Dean!” Cas screamed struggling to get out the other’s grip as Dean carried him towards the cliff's edge.

“Any last words, angel?” Dean asked, a grin across his face.

Cas glared back. “I want a divorced.”

“We gotta get married first,” Dean replied. He took a step closer to the edge and Claire chewed at her lip, stopping the smile that came as Cas struggled in Dean’s arms. “Ready?”

“No.”

“Three,” Dean began counting down slowly, “two.”

“Dean, please I-“

“One!”

And with that Dean jumped off the edge, taking Cas with him.

Claire jumped to her feet, and ran to the edge. The water was far below, the small waves crashing against the cliff side as Dean tried to keep his head above the water while Cas attempted to shove him back under.

As much as Claire hated it, she couldn’t help but smile.

They spent the rest of the day at the cliffs, the sun warming her skin as she jumped in the water or sat at the edge laughing as Cas pushed Dean back in. It’s almost too easy, too soft, the feelings, the thoughts, the actions, and yet she couldn’t, the happiness was so refreshing she couldn't help but welcome it.

She’s even disappointed when Cas gets a call from the hospital asking him to come in for a night shift cutting their day short. Though that doesn’t stop her from humming to Dean’s music as everyone else sang along, or agreeing to ice cream when Dean offered, or for once letting herself enjoy the man’s company.

When they got home Claire made her way to her room. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the photo on her bedside table. They looked happy, like any other family out at the park. Dean holding her feet to keep her safe on his shoulder, Jack just a bundle of yellow blankets, his small hands reaching up to Cas.

Claire picked up the wooden frame, grip tight around it as she held the photo in her lap.

They’d taken a photo on the cliff's edge, the four of them smiling as if they’d done it a hundred times before and they could have.

They could have taken family photos together, had family dinners and breakfasts. Gone on vacations and to the movies, been a family, if Dean hadn’t left.

Claire clenched her jaw, the tip of her nose burning.

She could trust Dean, that’s what her dad would say, that’s what he’d always said and she wanted to. She wanted to be happy, she wanted to be a family, she wanted it more than anything else. She’d give anything for it, but with the pain settling in her chest and the tears blurring her vision, it was too late.

They weren’t a family.

And they never would be.

A knocking at her door came and Claire wiped the back of her hand across her eyes just as the door opened. “Hey,” Dean said. “Me and the kid were thinking of goin’ to the movies, would you wanna come?”

Claire gripped the frame tighter, biting her lip. She couldn’t look up, not with the way her nose burned or her hands shook. Not with Dean’s eyes on her, caring and still loving her after everything. Why did he still love her?

Couldn’t he give up?

She sucked in a breath and Dean’s footsteps followed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Claire whispered.

“Well that’s a shit lie.”

She looked up to Dean who stood in front of her, a worried expression across his face, causing a dull pain across her chest. Claire clenched her jaw as if that would somehow stop it, or at least numb it out with something else. Anger.

Anger she could handle, it was familiar, understandable. She knew how to live through it, what to expect from it, the pain though, that was unbearable.

“I said,” Claire replied through clenched teeth, “I’m fine.”

Dean glanced at the photo in her hand, before looking back to her, his expression so gentle she wanted to cry. “Look if you don't want to talk I'm not going to make you,” Dean began, the wood digging into the palms of Claire’s hands as she gripped the frame tighter. She wanted to snap it, hear the crack as the wood broke in half. The tear as the picture was ripped into two. Anything to release the bubbling emotion. “But I'm here if you change your mind.”

“I was fine.” Claire replied in a clipped tone. Dean raised an eyebrow, giving Claire a moment to turn back, to stop the fight she knew she was starting though she only tilted her chin and narrowed her eyes at the other. “Everything was fucking fine,” she snapped, “everyhting, until you came back!”

Dean’s expression didn’t change, staying emotionless as he stared at her and somehow that made everything worse.

“You’d left us!” She screamed, not carrying what she said, just anything to get rid of the pain, to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. “You left dad alone, and you left me!” Claire continued, the tears brimming her vision. “You jackass.”

Dean stepped forward, and Claire could only shake her head between her stumbled words. “You- you can’t- you left.”

“Claire-“

“Don’t.” She whispered, the word barely parting her lips.

She stared at Dean, lips barely parted.

There was so much more she wanted to say, so many more feelings she wanted to explain, yet she couldn’t find the energy to form them. Her vision still blurry as she held Dean’s gaze, though her grip around the frame had loosened and she couldnt find it in her to stop it from falling. It hit the ground with a loud crash, the glass shattering across her floor.

It wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would be.

“You left for fifteen years,” Claire finally whispered, the words barely coming out. “And now I’m supposed to pretend as if everything’s okay and I can’t.”

“You aren’t my dad,” Claire whispered, “I didn’t want you back.”

She looked down to her floor, the shards of glass covering the wood, as the photo stayed flipped upside down only letting her see the back of the frame. Still she kept looking. She refused to look up, she didn’t think she could. “Get out.” Claire finally said.

“Can we please-“

“I said, get out.” When Dean doesn’t make a move Claire squeezed her eyes shut. “Now.” She demanded.

This time Dean listened.

It’s when Dean and Jack leave to the movies that Claire finally forced herself to stand, her legs weak under her weight as she walked out of her bedroom and into Cas’s.

The room hadn’t changed much since Dean had arrived, though it was enough to be noticeable. His leather jacket hanging on the closet’s door knob, his robe tossed over the desk chair, his books lined alongside Cas’s. The room was cleaner, unlike how Cas usually kept it, with stacks of papers or piles of clothing filling up any space they could. He’d never cared about keeping things clean, or maybe just never had the time, either way Dean seemed to care.

Claire made her way to the bookshelf, shuffling through the stack of scrap books Cas had made before she took the bottom one and sat at the edge of the bed. Slowly she flipped through the scrapbook, hands shaking as she studied each page. The paper everything that had been glued to, the decorations that covered it, pictures all paired with small descriptions of where and when they’d been taking. Most were of her between birth and one years old though there were a handful that had someone else in it, Dean or Cas, occasionally Chuck or one of her aunts and uncles.

When the last page came Claire could only stare. In the center was her with a birthday cake, on the top right her and Cas before her first birthday had started and on the bottom left was her and Dean after. Dean was sprawled across a couch fast asleep, while Claire slept on his chest, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Her nose burned, vision blurry as she continued to stare at the photo. Even as the sound of the front door opening came, followed by the creaking of the stairs, she didn’t move.

Why couldn’t she have had that growing up.

Why couldn’t that have been her life.

What’d she do wrong?

“Claire?” She looked up to the bedroom doorway where Cas was stood still in his nurse scrubs, looking the way he always did after work, tired, though that expression quickly dropped into something more concerned as he stepped into the room. “What happened?”

She opened her mouth though nothing came, only a choked sob parting her lips as the tears fell and she finally broke.

Without a word Cas walked forward, gently taking the scrapbook from her hand before he sat on the bed and pulled her into a tight hug letting her sob into his shoulder. She gripped onto the material of his shirt, leaning further into his warmth, as she gasped for breaths. “I- I- I’m- I,” Claire choked through her tears, “I can’t!”

“You cannot what?” Cas asked gently.

She squeezed her eyes shut, listening to the steady breathing of her dad, his hand rubbing small circles on her back as the tears slipped down her cheeks, rolling slower than before. It would hurt him, her fight with Dean, he wanted everything okay and Claire was making it anything but that.

She was single handedly tearing whatever they were apart, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“I can't- I can’t forgive him,” she finally whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Dean?”

She nodded, “I- he left. He didn’t care enough or I did something wrong or I don’t know-“ Claire clenched her jaw as more tears fell. There was nothing she could do to stop them, she had no energy left, no will, just the dull pain across her chest. “But he left, and he’s going to do it again,” she continued, “and I- I can’t.”

“Dean, he didn’t want to leave,” Cas replied.

“But you don’t just get arrested.”

“Bear,” Cas whispered. He slowly pulled away causing Claire to lift her head, meeting her dad's gaze. His eyes were rimmed red and he had his head tilted to the side as he looked at her with so much pain. Pain she’d caused. “Dean’s arrest- it was not his fault,” Cas began, slowly, “it was a failure of our system’s and a failure of his father’s. Dean only did what he had to and I apologize that you’re facing the consequences.”

Cas raised a hand gently wiping away the tear that rolled down her cheek. “You were his everything,” he continued, “being your dad was the best thing that had ever happened to him.”

The words crushed upon her as she sat motionless, crushed under the pain of things she couldn’t even describe.

“Babies are hard,” Cas said, “there are rules to raising them that know one tells you but expects you to know and I had a hard time with you but Dean,” he pressed his lips together and glanced across the bedroom. “He seemed to know everything. When you woke up at night he would spend hours holding and talking to you.”

He looked back to her, giving a sad smile. “He loved you more than anything,” Cas whispered.

She didn’t move, words, feelings she didn’t know how to explain on the tip of her tongue. Nothing could fix the pain, the damage and scars that had been caused, and part of her wasn’t sure that the future could be fixed either. The pain dug too deep. The doubt had dug too deep, the fear of being hurt again rested in her chest with every breath she took.

She couldn’t do it again, she couldn’t take anymore pain.

“What if he does it again,” Claire whispered, looking down to the blue blankets.

Cas doesn’t reply and Claire pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut as she inhaled before she opened them again. Cas trusted Dean. He trusted Dean with everything he had, and he wanted her to trust him too. She wanted to trust him, but she couldn’t.

“We visited him when you were four,” Cas began, his voice rough. “I’d visited a few times before that, but this was your first time. It was almost a four hour drive and we were only able to stay for ten minutes because of how much you hated being in the visitor Center.” Cas said. “I didn’t blame you, it wasn’t a pleasant place.”

“You’d cried from the moment you arrived until we’d left,” Cas continued. “Me and Dean agreed it was best if only I came to visit, but that didn’t stop him from keeping in contact, he’d write at least once a week to you and it was only when you were twelve and had never written back that he stopped.”

Claire looked up, staring at her dad. Too exhausted to cry. Too in pain to say anything else. She just wanted it over, she didn’t want to have to fix anything, she just wanted it to work.

She leant forward and Cas without hesitation pulled her into a tight hug, letting her bury her face into his shoulder.

“You smell,” she mumbled, as she buried her nose into his clothing where the hospital smell clung.

“And you’re getting snot on my shirt,” Cas replied, causing a smile to tug at her lips. She closed her eyes and Cas brought his hand to her back once again rubbing small circles there.

“Claire,” He said and she squeezed her eyes tighter. Hadn’t they talked enough. “How you and Dean’s relationship continues is your choice, and I love you no matter,” but, “but I want you to know; leaving you was the last thing Dean ever wanted to do.”

A soft knocking came and Claire looked up from her homework and to her bedroom door where Dean stood. He looked unsure, glancing around her bedroom, and Claire didn’t blame him; it'd been two days since their fight and neither of them had talked since, not so much as a good morning. She hadn’t been sure if Dean even wanted to be around her after everything.

She wouldn’t have wanted to be around her.

“Hey,” Dean greated.

“Hey,” Claire replied.

His hand dropped and Claire bit at her lip, “do you mind if I- uh come in?”

Claire shook her head, and Dean walked to her bed, taking a seat on the pink blankets, looking just as unsure as he had in the doorframe. He glanced to her bedside table where the family photo now stood in a new frame Claire had bought the day before and Claire shifted in her desk chair, fiddling with her pencil.

Dean looked back to her and she held her breath.

Whatever he had to say, she knew she wasn’t ready to hear.

“I was hopin’,” Dean began, “if you weren’t busy, we could talk maybe?”

Claire pressed her lips together before giving a small nod of her. “Yah,” she whispered. “Yah, we can do that.”

Dean exhaled, and Claire brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, before chewing at her lip. She wasn’t ready. She wanted to, but she wasn’t ready.

“I’m sorry,” Dean finally said, “I should’ve talked to you about everything the moment I got home, but I just- I wanted to pretend like nothing had happened cause well-” Dean gave a half smile, and Claire gave a small one back. “I’m not good at talking about my feelings and shit, that’s more of Cas’s thing.”

At least they had that in common.

“I- '' Dean continued, shifting in his spot as he looked back to his hands. “I was sentenced under the three strike law,” Dean finally said, “which gets you locked away for a long time for doing jack shit.”

Dean rubbed a hand down his face and Claire swallowed, the ache in her chest rising into her throat. She almost wanted to tell him to stop, the pain across his face, in his voice, so raw she could feel it across every inch of her skin. His lips parted, and eyes never fully meeting hers, instead on her lips or to her right, or simply blank staring forward, as if it hurt too much to do so.

“Growing up my dad wasn’t around a lot,” Dean began, looking to the ground. “He’d leave me and my brother without enough money for the both of us, or sometimes no money at all.”

Claire’s grip around her pencil tightened, the wood digging into the palm of her hand.

“One day, I think I was twenty, my dad just didn’t come back.” Dean wiped the palms of his hands across his eyes and inhaled before he continued speaking. “I had a job but it wasn't enough, so I stole what I could. I got caught a handful of times, but I was lucky and they only recorded three of them, I eventually got my shit together but that didn't clean my record,”

Dean looked up, his gaze meeting hers. His eyes were rimmed red, though gentle as he gave her a soft smile that she forced herself to return. “You were two and Cas always had you wearing the ugliest things, I was embarrassed to be seen with you,” Dean teased in some attempt to ease the tension. “Jack was only a few months old and we’d left you guys with Chuck while we went out to some bar.”

Dean licked his lips, his gaze once again dropping to the floor. “Chuck ended up calling us early, you wouldn’t fall asleep and wanted us home, so Cas went out to the car to talk to you while I paid the bill.” Dean continued, “when I got out these douchebags were being dicks to Cas so I told them to go screw themselves and when they didn’t leave us alone I broke the one guy's nose. I think the second guy ended up with bad bruising and the third went to the hospital with a concussion and some other shit. I ended up with a cracked rib.”

He rubbed the palms of his hands against his jeans before running a hand through his hair. “For the three strike law you need some kind of violent crime, so with the assault and my thefts it was enough for me to get a twenty four years sentence.”

“Still” Dean said, his expression pained though voice somehow steady, “I was lucky, lots of people get a lot longer for a lot less.”

Claire took a shaken breath, unsure how to reply, unsure how to feel, everything around her just seemed to buzz. She licked her lips, gripping the pencil tighter as if it was the only thing keeping her seated, and it might have been.

“And what about…” she began unsure how to continue. Slowly she raised her hand pointing to her right shoulder, as her gaze darted to Dean’s.

He frowned before seeming to understand what she was asking. “My dad, Dean whispered, “we were uh- out camping, he got pissed off and when he came at me I stepped back and into the fire.” He tapped the burn on the top of his left hand, “these ones were from cigarettes and these ones,” Dean brought his hands to his thighs, hesitating for a moment. “Life was shit,” he finally whispered.

He didn’t need to say anything else.

Without a word Claire stood her legs shaking as she moved forward. Mind numb. Her mouth still dry. Her heart beating heavy in her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to speak or even begin to process everything that had been said and instead she sat next to Dean and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I love” Dean whispered, as he held her. There was a crack in his voice that had Claire squeezing her eyes shut, focusing on his warmth. On the way he held back just tight enough to know he wasn’t leaving.

“Im sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for hurting you,” Dean pressed a kiss to the top of her head before resting his forehead there, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

-

Claire stopped at the entrance of the kitchen, the room lit by the afternoon sunlight. Dean was sat at the kitchen table, one hand around a beer and both feet propped up on another seat as he read whatever was on his laptop screen.

For a moment she stayed standing at the entrance unsure what to say. It’d been a few weeks since their fight and though things had gotten much better it was still awkward when both Cas and Jack were gone. Neither of them fully knew what to do around the other and though Claire would never admit it to anyone, especially not Dean, she was scared things would never come naturally, that the underlying tension between them would always be there.

“What’re you doing?” She finally asked, staying in her spot with her hands held behind her back.

“Writing my monthly report to my douchebag probation officer,” Dean mumbled, not looking up from the computer. “The jackass still won’t let me go to LA. He’s lucky I can’t own a gun.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Want me to kick his ass?” Claire offered.

“No.” Dean looked up with a smile across his own lips as he mouthed ‘yes’. “Violence doesn’t get you shit,” he continued before mouthing ‘do it’.

Claire looked to the ground, her bare feet cold against the kitchen tiles as her fingers fiddled with the paper she held behind her back. The words were on the tip of her tongue yet she couldn’t bring herself to whisper them. Her mouth dry and a heat crawling up her neck.

It’d be fine.

She just had to do it.

“I,” she finally began looking back up to Dean who was already looking at her. “I- um, I made you something.”

Dean didn’t say anything and Claire took that as an invitation to step into the kitchen. Nothing was better than no, or at least she hoped so.

Slowly she brought the painting out from behind her back and offered it to Dean. He took the painting from her hand, his gaze wandering over the paper. She’d repainted a photo she’d taken when they’d gone cliff jumping, just as the forest has opened up to the cliff side, with the water peaking over the cliffs where it met the sky in the horizon.

It wasn’t her best work, by far, water colour was hard with some of the colours blurring in spots, and the sun rays had been difficult to paint, yet she hoped Dean would at least appreciate the gesture.

And maybe not laugh at her.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered and Claire chewed her lip as a smile spread across Dean’s face. “You made this?” He asked looking up as Claire nodded, “for me?” She nodded again.

Dean stared at her for a moment, before he looked back to the painting and quickly wiped a hand across his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“You like it?”

“Like it?” Dean asked, looking back to her. His eyes were glazed over and Claire chewed at her lip.“I love it, it’s awesome.”

Dean walked to their refrigerator and Claire couldn’t help but smile as Dean hung the painting with a few magnets before taking a step back to study it. “Shit,” Dean said, grinning back to her, “Michelangelo better which out.”

Claire laughed.

This was what she’d always wanted, and maybe she didn’t have it at first but like hell she was going to let it go.

She stepped forward, raising her arms for a hug and without hesitation Dean pulled her into one. His arms were tight around her waist, as she leant into his warmth, her arms around his neck and chin rested against his shoulder. “Thank you,” Dean whispered, the emotion clear in his voice.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut, her grip around the other tightening.

Things weren’t perfect but that didn’t matter, because they were going to be okay.